Curse Breaker's Apprentice
by Danny-Shells
Summary: Single point of departure: When Harry wakes up from his dream of Voldemort killing a man the summer before 4th year, he remembers that Ron's older brother is a curse breaker. What would happen if Harry got to spend a summer exploring with Bill? independent/Harry
1. Chapter 1

Author's note: Based on the idea that at the start of the fourth book, Harry was smart enough to realize that Ron's older brother was a curse breaker, so he'd probably have the most information about cursed scars.

For the plot of this story, several points have been changed from canon. For one, Harry had his dream about Voldemort at the very start of the summer, only two days into vacation.

Harry woke up with a gasp clutching his scar. He frantically tried to remember the dream he had just been having. Something about Voldemort…

Voldemort had killed a man! A muggle man. He remembered the fear he had felt when the chair had turned around, but he couldn't remember what Voldemort had looked like. He tried to hold onto the dream, but it felt like it was slipping away. He could only remember bits and pieces.

The sharp stabbing pain from his scar made it even harder to concentrate. The last time his scar had hurt, Voldemort had been nearby. But there was no way Voldemort was near him now.

Harry glanced around his room as though he'd find Voldemort sitting at the desk smiling at him. While plenty of unusual items were scattered around the room (his broomstick was laying on top of his trunk and a box proudly proclaiming "Owl Treats, Finest Ingredients!" lay on the desk next to a cage), no red eyes looked back at him.

The idea of Voldemort showing up on Privet Drive was so ridiculous that Harry felt better. Privet Drive was exactly the way it had always been. Rows of identical houses lined the perfect suburban neighborhood. Each house was dark with the curtains still drawn. Voldemort would never come to such an exaggeration of everything Muggle.

Harry glanced at the clock on the nightstand; 1:22AM blinked back at him.

The pain in his scar wasn't as sharp of a stab anymore; it was more of a dull ache now.

It still worried him enough that he couldn't get back to sleep. What should he do? Was it possible that Voldemort was nearby planning to destroy the neighborhood? Harry shook his head. From what he could remember from his dream, he knew Voldemort wasn't strong enough to do that.

Harry considered writing his friends and asking their opinions.

Instantly, Hermione's voice, shrill with worry, filled his head.

 _You had another dream about Voldemort and now your scar hurts? That's really serious Harry! Write the Headmaster right away and I'll check my books. Maybe Common Magical Ailments and Maladies will have something!_

Yes, Harry knew for sure what his bookwarm-ish friend would suggest. Write Dumbledore and check the books.

As Harry was the only one to ever survive the Killing Curse before, he doubted that he would find anything helpful in a book on common ailments.

And he didn't know what the Hogwarts Headmaster did during the summer months. Harry wondered briefly what Dumbledore's long white beard would look like paired with a bathing suit before shaking his head. Besides, what business was it for his school's headmaster to know about Harry's nightmares in the middle of the summer anyway? Harry wasn't sure the headmaster was really the right person to write.

Then Harry considered writing Ron, but he knew what his lanky bestfriend would say.

 _Jeez, your scar hurts. I don't know, maybe that's common for curse scars? I'll ask Dad and see what he says._

Ron's father, Mr. Weasley was a qualified wizard who worked for the Ministry of Magic, but Harry doubted that he'd know much about such a specific topic. He knew more about raising a brood of kids and the misuse of Muggle artifacts than anything else.

As Harry was thinking about the Weasley's, he almost smacked his own face.

Oh course there was a Weasley who knew a lot about curses! Ron's oldest brother, Bill, worked as a curse breaker for Gringotts.

He had to work with curses and their effects everyday. If anyone would know about what was usual for a curse scar and what wasn't, it would be Bill.

Harry sat down at his desk to write the letter, but then he paused.

He'd never met Bill before though he'd heard plenty of stories from Ron. Bill had been Head Boy back in his time at Hogwarts, and he now worked for a bank. Harry had always imagined that Bill must be something of an older version of Percy. How would he feel about his kid brother's friend randomly writing him a letter about curses in the middle of the night? Especially if it was common and he thought Harry was way overreacting.

Harry sat there debating for several minutes before he eventually shrugged. The worst that could happen was Ron's older brother who he'd never met before would think he was a little silly.

When he had finished the letter, he glanced over it.

 _Dear Bill,_

 _I know we've never met, but this is Ron's friend Harry. This is quite random, but I know you're a curse breaker, and I had a question that seemed right up your alley. Is it usual for a curse scar to hurt years after it was created? Like is it common for them to just random ache or have a sharp pain?_

 _Sorry to bother you. I just saw Ron two days ago when we left Hogwarts, and he was doing well. From what I saw of the rest of the Weasley's at the train station, they were all happy and healthy too. Again, sorry to bother you, but thanks in advance._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Harry Potter_

He supposed it looked good enough. Sealing it in an envelope, he laid it down on the desk and got back into bed. Hedwig was out hunting so he'd have to wait until she got back.

Harry looked around the dismay room with distaste. It was only the second day of summer vacation, and he was already miserable.

Except for his time at Hogwarts the last three school years, Harry had lived with the Dursley's for the last 12 years. At the end of July, he would turn 14 and it would start on 13 years with them.

12 miserable years where the Dursleys had hated him and he'd hated them. It was only recently that he'd been allowed to move out of the cupboard under the stairs and into Dudley's second bedroom. Then when he'd returned from Hogwarts the first time, they'd put locks on the door (on the outside) and bars on the small window. Even though Ron and the twins had ripped off the bars, he'd always felt trapped at the Dursley's. Dumbledore had said that there were blood wards that protected him there, but he always wondered if the wards were worth the misery he'd felt there.

Where there other children in the Wizarding World that had been left with less than the best guardians because of magic?

The Dursleys had been arguing about Dudley's new diet the last two days. Despite Dudley's whining and Aunt Petunia's tears, it had been decided that Dudley had to go on a diet. Which meant everyone in the house would have to go on a diet. Unless Harry figured something out, it looked like he would be spending another summer at the Dursley's starving. Of course, he had been used to going hungry there, but it was harder than it ever had been before now that he was used to being able to eat as much as he wanted at Hogwarts.

The next morning, Harry sent the letter off with Hedwig. She'd never failed to deliver a letter before, but Harry worried where he was sending her off to.

Where did curse breakers usually live? Was Bill off in some foreign country like Egypt?

Bill looked over the letter in his hands again.

"What're ya lookin' at Weasley?" asked Bill's old school friend Andrew Huning in his thick Irish drawl. Bill was at the main Gringotts branch to get his next assignment and he'd taken the lunch off to eat with some of his old buddies. He'd been surprised when a snowy white owl had swopped in front of him to drop off a letter. He'd been even more surprised when he read the letter.

"One of my baby brother's friends wrote me a letter about curse scars," he replied absentmindly while he reread the letter again.

Andrew grabbed the letter out of his hands and read over it, his eyebrows going up as he read it, "Not just any friends, Harry Potter himself writin' ya. Do ya think he means the curse scar, his famous lightenin' bolt?"

Bill shrugged, "I'd assume but how would I know? He doesn't specifically say in the letter."

Wallace Turner piped up from the other side of Bill, "Man, you must be salivating over the possibility to examine the famous scar?"

Bill shrugged again with an abashed smile, it's not like he could deny that any curse breaker would be excited to examine the only evidence of the only person to have survived the famous Killing Curse.

"Why don't ya write back and ask if you can visit this afternoon? Ya have a bit of break before your next assignment right?" Andrew suggested. "And if he says ya can, we'll go visit this afternoon."

Bill rolled his eyes, "Andrew, we can't just invite ourselves to a random boys house to examine his scar. What would his guardians think? I haven't even met the boy before."

"Yeah but he is a family friend and this could be serious. You and I both know tat it isn't usual for an old curse scar to send new sharp pains. Besides who looked at the scar originally? What is they missed something and there's lingering magic that's damaging the boy?" Andrew pointed out.

Bill frowned, "I haven't the faintest idea of whose looked over the scar. I'm sure whoever picked him up that night would have looked over him before taking him to his relatives. He lives with his Muggle relatives from what Ron told me, so they wouldn't be able to examine it."

He trailed off as he thought about it. He was sure that a Healer must have looked over the boy, but it was possible they could have missed something. When you don't work with a certain kind of injury everyday, it becomes easier to miss that something was wrong.

"Alright, I'll write him, and we'll see what he says," he finally said.

Wallace shook his head at the other two men, "You curse breakers are all alike. Willing to be rude just to get a look at a fancy bit of magic. Leave me out of this, I don't have any more knowledge of curses than any other average wizard.

Bill sent off a quick letter with Harry's owl saying he'd be over later that afternoon to look at it and talk to him.

Harry was weeding that garden under the pretense of watching for Bill. He wasn't sure exactly how Ron's older brother would arrive. He knew that Bill couldn't just fly in on a broom because of the Privacy Act.

The Weasley's had gone out for dinner, so it was the perfect time. Harry wasn't sure if Bill knew how to blend in with muggles. He might disrupt Surrey Drive slightly, but at least Harry wouldn't have to deal with the Dursley's wrath.

Harry's stomach growled as he pulled more weeds. He frowned to himself.

Breakfast for the Dursley's had been a half of a grapefruit. Dudley had stolen his when Aunt Petunia's back was turned. Vernon had given Dudley an approving nod, so Harry knew his uncle wasn't going to stop him (not that Harry had expected Uncle Vernon to side with him).

They'd left around 11am to go visit someone and then out to a nice dinner. They hadn't left Harry anything for lunch, and he doubted he'd get anything for supper either. Luckily, he still had some sweets left from the Hogwarts Express, but he knew that wouldn't last too long.

He planned on owling Hermione and the Weasley's to see if they could help him with food for the summer. Another summer of starving was not appealing to Harry at all.

Suddenly, the rumbling sound started several streets over. As the sound got closer, Harry thought he recognized it as a motorcycle.

Several heads popped out from behind curtains throughout the street as two large motorcycles turned onto Privet Drive. Harry felt his eyebrows disappear into his hair when they pulled into the Dursley's driveway.

Off of the motorcycles, two men stepped off. When they pulled off their helmets, Harry was able to get a look at their appearances.

He quickly decided the leading rider had to be Bill Weasley. He was nothing like what Harry had expected. He'd expected an older version of Percy. While he was tall and lean like Ron or Percy, and he had the signature red hair of all the Weasley's, he looked nothing like the other Weasley's that Harry knew. Dressed in head to toe in some form of black leather, with long hair pulled into a ponytail and a fang earing, he looked more like he was going to a rock concert than a wizard.

Harry looked at the other man with Bill. He was also dressed in leather, but his was a mix of black and grey pieces. He had short brown hair that curled at the ends. He also had a fang earing as well as a smirk as though he was already planning ways to embarrass everyone around him (it was a look Harry often saw on the Twin's faces).

"'Ello, there, ya must be Harry?" the unknown man said in an Irish accent while offering his hand to Harry. Harry watched them slightly wary.

"I'm Bill and this is my friend Andrew. He works as a curse breaker for Gringotts too and insisted on being brought along," Bill rolled his eyes.

At that, Harry shook the hands offered to him, "We'd better head inside before the neighbors call my relatives."

He turned to head into the house. Andrew and Bill shared a look over his head.

He lead them into the hyper neat house. Aunt Petunia had him deep clean the house the last two days to make up for his absence at school. Not that the house had been dirty, but even scrubbing clean floors without much food is hard.

Deciding that it wasn't a good idea risking Aunt Petunia's floral settee set (what if they had gotten something on their clothes while riding here on the motorcycles?), he lead them into the kitchen.

"Do you want anything to drink?" he fiddled with the hem of his oversized shirt nervously as they each took a seat at the table. They both declined the three stared at each other awkwardly for a minute.

Finally Bill spoke up, "So Harry, you asked if curse scars normally hurt years after the event?"

Harry nodded so Bill continued, "Honestly it depends on what kind of curse was used to create the scar. Some curses are meant to cause lasting pain. Others are just meant to inflict damage. For example, a scar from the cutting charm would not hurt years later even if it did scar. On the other hand, the Cruciatus Curse does not leave scars, but a person can often ache for days after it is inflicted depending on the strength of the caster."

Andrew leaned forward, "Forgive us if we are assuming things, but would you be referring to your famous scar?"

Harry considered what to tell them. He'd always trusted the Weasley's; they had never betrayed him before. Eventually he nodded again.

Bill and Andrew shared a frown before Bill spoke up, "I'm sure you know that no one and no thing has ever survived the Killing Curse before. It would be hard to know for sure what is normal for it or not."

Andrew took over, "'owever, the Killing Curse is part of the spell family of _Cadere_ meanin' 'to fall'. This spells are meant to quickly brin' down an opponent such as with the cutting charm. They are not meant to be 'eld out or used for long times such as with the immobolus spell or the stinging hex. So in theory, it should have done its job to make you fall through death and then dissipated. There are no cases of someone being hit by a Killing Curse and then someone else dying from touching the body. The magic of the curse is not mean' to linger."

Harry frowned, "My scar hurts whenever I get close to Voldemort. This morning, it hurt when I woke up from a dream about Voldemort."

"It sounds like the failed killing curse might have accidently caused a connection to form between you and Voldemort," Bill mused. "The easiest thing would be for Andrew and I to examine your scar.

Harry considered it, "Would it hurt?"

Andrew laughed, "We jus want ta examine it, not poke and prod ya or just experiments on ya."

"We have a set of special Curse Breaker glasses that allow us to look a little deeper at the magic," Bill explained.

Harry took a step towards them, "In that case, I don't mind."

Unfortunately, the front door banged open at that second. Bill and Andrew watched as the blood drained from Harry's face.

"Quick, you need to head out. My relatives got home early," he hissed at that softly.

"Boy! What is parked in the driveway?" Vernon yelled as he came into the kitchen. He stopped at the sight of the two men standing in the kitchen by Harry.

"Since you're home, I'd assume your car is in the driveway?" Harry snarled. He watched as Vernon's face turned his trademark puce color.

"You know what I ruddy meant!" He roared. "All the neighbors looking out their curtains at those motorcycles. It's almost as bad as your frea-" he broke off suddenly as he remembered the other men in the room.

"And who are you anyway? More of the boy's kind?" he asked.

"What exactly is Harry's kind? Do you mean magical?" Bill asked politely.

Vernon shuddered as though he had been hit, "You must be then if you know about that freakishness."

"I would appreciate you not calling magic freakishness," Andrew murmured.

Vernon drew himself up when the word magic was uttered in his house twice, "Out! Get out of my house!"

He got into their faces. Bill and Andrew wisely decided that it might be time to leave. Bill shot Harry a wink to let him know that there were no hard feelings. Andrew tried to mouth to Harry that they'd owl him, but he wasn't sure that Harry had noticed.

When their boots were barely past the threshold, the door was slammed violently behind them. They shared a look before each putting on their helmets and driving away. Once they had gone far from the suburbs to where the land turned to farmlands, they pulled behind a barn before activating their notice-me-not and invisibility charms on the bikes.

If you had the ability to see through such charms, like Alastor Moody and Dumbledore had, you would see two bikes flying through the sky.


	2. Chapter 2

Grabbing a branch slightly higher, Harry pulled himself into the tree. The rough bark scraped at any exposed skin, but he ignored the smart of pain. With a single-minded approach, he continued to pull himself higher into the tree.

None too late either as he heard the snap of teeth directly below his right foot. He decided to climb higher into the swaying tree when he noticed how close the dog was getting to him when it jumped.

Below him, Piers and Dudley were jeering the dog into a greater fury. They were yelling and smacking it to continue attacking Harry.

"Get him, mutt!" Piers laughed as the large Rottweiler scratched at the trunk of the tree.

Harry had expected the Dursleys' to be horrible after spotting the motorcycles in the driveway, but he hadn't been expecting this new form of torture. Piers' cousin had bought a Rottweiler. The Dursley's had originally been planning on being away for the day, but the visit had made them decide that they needed to stay around for the day to promote their reputation of everything normal.

As a result, Dudley had called Piers to hang out and Piers had mentioned that he was dog sitting his cousin's dog for the day.

Harry had been hoping that Dudley was planning on going to Pier's house when he heard them on the phone. That hope was destroyed when he spotted the two walking into the Dursleys' yard as he was weeding the gardens. The giant mass of black and brown pulling on the rope Piers was holding sent a new sliver of fear into Harry.

The meanness of Ripper had instilled a healthy respect of dogs in Harry, but this was nothing compared to Ripper. Easily an extra 50 plus pounds and all snarling mouth full of teeth.

Before even considering why or what he was doing, Harry was running.

Harry made it partway down the street as he heard the others following him.

"GO GET HIM!" he heard Piers yell as Dudley laughed.

Harry cursed when he looked behind him and saw that Piers had opted to drop the leash and allow the dog to freely chase him. Making a sharp turn, he ran into the park.

Without pausing in his running, he swung himself into the closest tree.

Harry found himself trapped in the tree as the dog clawed and growled below him. He glared at Piers and Dudley, but quickly realized that there wasn't much he could do except wait there.

"Hey! Call that dog off or I'll have him put down!"

/~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~abd~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~/

Bill and Andrew had been full of questions and anger when they both pulled into the Weasley's driveway. Molly had heard the bikes coming and was already out in the yard shouting welcomes.

"Bill! It's so good to see you. You should have told me you were coming in; I would've made your favorite dessert. While you're here, you should really let me cut your hair," Molly said, words tumbling over each other. "And Andrew! Why I haven't seen you since you boys' time at Hogwarts when you staid over the summer. How have you been? Still working as a curse breaker?"

They shared a look over Molly's head promising to talk later.

"'Ello Mum, it was a last minute stop. I think I might stay the night if that's ok?" Bill asked.

"Of course, it is! You and Charlie's bedroom is just the way you left it. All the kids would love to get to see you," she said distracted from talk of cutting Bill's ponytail.

Bill smiled at his mother as she lead them inside.

"Bill and Andrew are here!" she called into the house. Several sets of feet pounded down the stairs from different sections of the Burrow. Bill and Andrew found themselves distracted for some time by talking with the many redheads.

While passing a bowl of corn at supper, Bill finally found the chance to ask a couple of questions, "Ron, what do you think of being the Harry Potter's best friend?"

Ron looked at him, "Well, I don't know. How do you feel about being the Andrew's best friend?"

The others snickered, but Andrew cut in, "He must be living with a pretty nice family considering he's the savior and all. Who did he end up with anyway?"

There was a sudden uproar as all of the table starting added in their two cents at once.

"Those muggles are absolutely horrible!"

"They put a bloody lock on his bedroom door!"

"-all locked up in the cupboard!"

"Ron, watch your language! And stop exaggerating boys! We've had this talk before, Dumbledore knew what he was doing when he put Harry there."

Bill held up his hand, "Woah, woah, what are you talking about?"

"We had to break him out two summers ago because he didn't reply! They put bars on his window and had all these locks on the bedroom door!"

"Ronald Weasley, stop this talk immediately! You cannot come up with some cockamamie story about the Dursleys just to try to ignore the fact that you stole your father's car and caused all kinds of trouble! Some muggles saw you!"

"You stole your dad's old Angelina?" Andrew asked impressed.

"Well, we helped little Ronnikins of course," Fred started.

"But it wasn't just a story," finished George

"Not another word boys! I won't hear another word of such lies at this table. Just because a family is different from ourselves doesn't make them evil," Molly warned. The family wisely chose to change the subject, but Bill noticed the dark looks the twins and Ron were sending each other.

Closing the door softly behind him, Bill listened for sounds that his parents had woken up. At the next start of his mother's loud snoring and his father's slight whistling sound, he turned toward the twins. Ron was leaning against the door of the twins' room, already half back asleep.

"Alright, Bill, what's going on?" one of the twins demanded.

"I received a letter from a certain Harry Potter, and I have a rather unsettled feeling about everything."

Suddenly the other three were wide awake.

"You've got to listen to us, Bill! Those muggles are the worst sort!" Ron said entirely too loudly.

"SHhhh!" the other three said immediately.

"When I was there, the large fat one called me and Andrew freaks like Harry," Bill mentioned.

"You went to visit there?"

"Were you on the motorcycles?"

"Yeah of course we were. I didn't realize what the neighborhood would be like until we got there."

Ron frowned at him, "Why'd Harry even send you a letter? He's never even met you."

Bill thought he detected a hint of jealousy in Ron's voice. He remembered how his youngest brother could get.

"He sent me a letter about his scar hurting. He reckoned I might be able to help because of my work as a curse breaker," Bill looked Ron in the eyes as he said it and noticed another flash of jealousy go through Ron's eyes.

"He didn't send me any letters about it hurting," Ron mumbled.

George rolled his eyes, "What, is he your boyfriend? Dearest Ronnie, my scar just started hurting. Please send help, Love Harry."

"Why'd he send Bill a letter than, he doesn't know him!" Ron retorted as his neck started to flush red.

"We just went over this Ronnikins, Bill actually has training in this," Fred mocked.

Bill threw up his hands, "Stop it, that's not important now. What do you guys know about Harry's home life?"

"It's horrible!"

"Worst sort!"

"-Locks!"

"Stop! One at a time!" Bill whisper yelled.

"We went to get him two years ago because he wasn't replying. We took dad's car and it was fine on the way there. When we got there, they had bars on his window. It was a second-floor room, and it was the only room in the house with bars on it!" Ron said.

"Georgie and I snuck in to help him get his stuff. They'd put a bunch of locks on the outside of the bedroom door where he couldn't get to them. It was like locking a dog in a kennel."

"And they'd locked all of his school stuff into a cupboard under the stairs where he couldn't even get to it!" finished Fred. By that point, all three of the boys had gotten worked up.

"But on our way back, the car's invisibility charm started to malfunction. A couple of muggles saw us. Mum thinks we just made everything else up, so we wouldn't get into trouble," Ron said.

"To be fair, that does sound like us," Fred mused.

"Too right, Fred, but we didn't make it up this time. And it doesn't bother Harry, so he wouldn't support us. And mum and dad never went out and directly asked him about it."

Bill tried to think through everything he'd been told, "Mum said Dumbledore had put him there?"

Ron nodded his head hard enough for his hair to flap, "Yeah, Dumbledore told Harry that he has to go there every summer to strengthen some blood wards around the house."

Bill frowned, "Do you think they're abusing Harry? I mean like hitting him?"

The three others shared a dark look.

Finally, Fred shrugged, "We couldn't say for sure."

Bill pinched his nose between his fingers. He could feel a headache coming on.

"It's not worth it to keep saying stuff to mum," he finally muttered. "Her and dad are such hero worshipers of Dumbledore that they're not going to listen to you."

Ron's shoulders sagged, "Yeah, I know, but it's still not right."

"I guess we'll just have to give up though," Fred sounded disgusted.

Bill rolled his eyes, "So quick to give up? Where's your Weasley spirit?"

Three sets of eyes looked up at him in shock. At the sight of a grin spreading across his face, they turned to each other in confusion.

"I have an idea," he whispered to them.

George rolled his eyes, "Obviously, but what is your idea?"

"Well, we'd first all have to swear to secrecy if we want this to work."

/~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~/abc/~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~/

Bill glared at the two boys standing at the bottom of the tree. Both were glaring right back at him, and neither of them looked particularly sorry. At least the skinny one that looked like a rat had called off the big dog.

"What were you boys thinking? Don't you know that they kill dogs that attack people?" he scolded them. On the inside, he cringed at how much he sounded like his mother, but it didn't make him stop. He was using the same voice he always used on his little brothers when they misbehaved. It always made his brothers apologize and rethink through their actions, but it didn't seem to be working on these two.

"What're you gonna do? Call the cops. The old mutt didn't do anything wrong," the rat one said.

"Yeah, we told him to attack the freak because he was attacking us. The dog was just defending us," the fat one said.

Bill paused and gave the fat one a slow look over that Bill made sure he noticed as he said, "Really, someone as tubby as you needs a dog to defend yourself from that stick of a boy? What was he doing that you couldn't defend yourself from?"

A blush crept up the boy's neck, "You don't know nothing! The freak can do stuff. He makes bad stuff happen!"

Bill shrugged his shoulders, "I at least know more English than you seem to. Get out of here with that dog before I do call the cops."

After a long pause, the boys finally turned to leave. They said curses as the rat boy attached the rope back onto the dog's collar. They had to both tug at the rope to make the dog leave.

Bill turned toward Harry, but waited until they were out of ear shot to talk, "You ok? Did the dog bite you?"

"I'm fine. Thanks for calling them off, but I could've just waited them out. They would've gotten bored eventually," despite saying polite words, Harry seemed a little indignant at Bill's help.

"Then I saved you a boring afternoon of sitting a tree. You're welcome," Bill rolled his eyes at the teen. "Who were they anyway?"

"The fat one is my cousin Dudley and the other one is Piers," Harry muttered feeling slightly scolded.

"Is Piers related to a rat?" Bill asked.

Harry stared at him in shock before a wide grin spread across his face, "You think he looks like a rat too? You have no idea how many times I've thought that before."

Bill grinned back at him before sitting on one of the park benches. Harry stood slightly to the side near him. Bill noticed how Harry's eyes swept over the area looking for any danger. All his muscles were still tense.

Bill thought over what Ron and the twins had told him last night. They'd come up with a pretty good plan, but Ron and the twins had been adamant that he'd have to address Harry just right for him to go for it.

"Listen, I've been thinking about what you said about your scar hurting. I can take a look at it if you want, but I might not be the best person to look it over. My specialty is on breaking wards and curses. On the other hand, I know a specialist who deals with curses on people every day. I think it'd be a good idea for him to take a look at it," Bill said.

Harry nodded, "Ok, where does he live? Is it somewhere nearby?"

"He actually lives in America."

Harry seemed to droop a little bit, "Well that's that then. No way the Dursleys' are gonna take me to America to get my scar checked out."

Bill grinned at him, "What if you went with someone else?"

Harry frowned at him, "What do you mean?"

"I work for Gringotts. Usually they send me to spots in Egypt or across Europe; however, I just got an assignment from them for a place in South America. I'm supposed to be in Peru, so it wouldn't be a big deal to swing by his camp in Brazil. He's been working with some Amazonians down there," Bill said.

He could see as Harry became more guarded, "Why would you do that for me?"

Bill shrugged, playing it off, "Honestly it'd be more beneficial for myself. Most of the curse breakers bring assistants with them, but anyone who's graduated from Hogwarts wants a crazy amount of money. I'd be willing to pay you three Sickles a day that you work, plus pay for supplies. In return for not paying you as much, I'll take you to see the doc."

Harry smiled but a second later he looked crushed again, "It sounds great to get away from the Dursleys all summer but there's no way Dumbledore would go for it. He says I have to be here for the blood wards."

Bill snorted, "I'm sorry, but that's ridiculous. I checked out the wards on the place when I was looking for you this afternoon. There's nothing on that house that I couldn't put on myself or just do better. There's traces of a blood wards, but they look like they've been used and stretched so much that they're barely existent. Considering how many wards I put on my luggage, you'd be safer in my backpack than here."

When Harry shot him a slightly concerned look, he clarified, "I'm not going to put you in my backpack though. You'll have to earn your keep on this trip. It'll be a lot of camping, hiking, and walking You won't get any breaks just because you're The-Boy-Who-Lived. You'll have to prove your worth."

Finally, a true smile spread across Harry's face, "Yeah that sounds amazing. I'd definitely be down to go with you."

Bill offered his hand and they shook on it.

"Ok, we need to head to Diagon Alley. I need a couple more supplies, and you need all of your stuff.

/~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~abc~~~~~~~~~~~~~/z/

Ron glanced around the muggle library at Catchpoll surreptitiously. He didn't really want to be spotted.

"Bloody turning into Hermione, I am," he mumbled to himself. He glanced around another aisle suspiciously, trying to find what he was looking for.

A sharp tap on his shoulder made him twirl around with a girlish shriek. Ron and the girl stared at each other in shock for a minute before she burst out laughing. Ron frowned at her as a blush started to creep up his neck.

She had one arm wrapped around a pile of books while her body shook with laughter. He'd have thought she had giant blood in her from her height except for the fact that she was thin as a fairy. She looked to be about 19 or twenty, probably a girl from Uni.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. Why'd you have to startle me like that?" he asked her.

"Sorry, I've never heard a boy scream so much like a girl before. Anyway, you looked like you could use some help and as the intern, I believe that's my job," she finally managed to get out once she'd stopped laughing so hard.

"Right, well I guess it wouldn't hurt if I asked you were to find a book then. I need something on being more…like…. popular…or something. More appreciated maybe?" he mumbled as he looked down.

The intern gave the shorter boy a sympathetic look, "Ok, what's your specialties?"

He frowned at her, "No one thinks I have any specialties. Not like my brothers. The twins are the pranksters, and Percy's the nerd, and Charlie's great at Qui-I mean sports and animals, and Bill's good at being a leader and popular."

She nodded, "Ahh I see the problem. That's a lot of brothers then. Well, what do you like to do?"

"I hate school, I know that."

She laughed again, "That's good to know, but I actually asked what you like, not dislike."

Ron felt the blush creeping up again. She looked kind of liker Hermione, so he'd assume that she'd tell him to focus on schooling.

"I like Wi- I mean chess," he stumbled over the muggle words. "I've beat all my brothers and even Bill a couple of times."

She nodded as she thought it over. She turned and started walking through the aisles. Ron stared at her back until she looked over her shoulder at him, "Come on then. I don't have all day. The books won't shelf themselves."

Mumbling a sorry, he caught up to her.

"Now, I'm not going to get you books on how to play chess because you must be pretty good if you've beaten all of your brothers. I'm thinking maybe we should stick with something analytical. Why did you decide to come in today?" she asked him.

Because he was slightly nervous and uncomfortable, Ron found himself rambling, "My friend had something happen, and he sent my brother a letter, but he didn't send me a letter. And my other brother said it was because my older brother is actually an expert unlike me. And I felt really unneeded, but I'm important too. Plus, there's been times when he's tried to get help from me, but I got mad or I said something stupid without thinking and I'm worried he doesn't trust me. So, I thought if I could become an expert in something, maybe they'd respect me more. But I don't really know what I wanna be an expert at and I don't really know what to do in the mu- uhm I mean just in the library. So yeah…"

He trailed off. The blush had covered most of his cheeks and he felt uncomfortably warm.

She nodded as she pulled a book off the shelves, "The library is a good place to start on becoming an expert."

"Yeah, my other friend is a genius on everything, and she always claims it's from books," he rubbed the back of his neck.

She handed him a book to carry as she walked to another shelf. When he glanced down, he saw that the title said Sherlock Holmes. As they walked, she added three more books to his stack and then walked towards the checkout station.

"What's yoo-gay?" he tried to sound out the word.

"What?" she stared at him.

He moved the book toward her and pointed at the one word on the cover, "This here, yu-ga?"

She laughed out loud again.

"You're hysterical, you know that? Can you come back every day I have to work? It gets so boring here."

"It's not funny, I didn't know better," he grumbled. His embarrassment was starting to turn to anger and he was thinking that coming to the library was a mistake.

"Hey, I didn't mean to be rude; I'm sorry. You're right, you didn't know how to say it. It's called yoga. I included that another book on meditation. Yoga's about meditating and using movements in your body to overcome things. Those two might help you to work on your anger. Then I included Sherlock Holmes which is fictional and a guide on how to think more like Sherlock. He was very analytical which I expect you probably are if you like chess," she said soothingly.

"Oh well that's a lot," he mumbled.

"Flip through the books on yoga and meditation. Most of them are just pictures, in color of course," she suggested. He sat the books on the counter and flipped through them.

He snorted, "I'm glad they're in color, but I wish they moved too. Might help me more."

She laughed, "I wish pictures in books could move too. If you like it and want to get better, the library offers a free class on Saturdays on yoga during the summer. There'll be an instructor there that can help you."

He shrugged, "I'll look through and see what I think."

Ron had never heard of yoga before. He'd never thought much about his temper either, but the talk with Bill last night had opened his eyes. As he'd been explaining about the Dursley's, he couldn't help but think about how many times he'd gotten angry and acted just like Harry's uncle. It had made his skin crawl.

And when Bill had said Harry sent Bill a letter instead of Ron, Ron had felt jealousy. That hadn't mattered much, but then he'd seen how Bill looked at him. Like he was disappointed in him. He hadn't understood why until he thought about it. Harry had finally reached out for help and instead of being worried about his friend, Ron was upset that he hadn't reached out to him for help.

It was all making Ron think that maybe he needed to change.

And he knew what Hermione would suggest without even sending her an owl, so he'd decided to just go ahead and visit the library.

Now there was a cute girl from Uni who was paying him attention and listening to him. Not a bad day over all.

"I'll be working a week from now at the same time. I want you to come back and tell me what you thought of Sherlock Holmes. We have a bunch of other books on him if you like it. Plus try some of the yoga. If you don't like it, fine. But at least try, ok?" she was telling him.

Ron found himself nodding along as he walked out of the library with his stack of four books.

"Have a good afternoon," she called. He waved a hand at her, already flipping through the pictures.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~/abc/~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yay for Ron development. The bit with Ron visiting the library goes with the butterfly affect and how much would change just from Harry's one change.

In fact, most of the story is just exploring a potential change in the Potter world from that one point of change. I have some different stuff planned for this story, stuff that I haven't seen so far in fanfiction (at least not that I've seen in the Harry Potter world).

I'd love constructive criticism. If you see any grammar issues, please let me know so that I can become a better writer. If there are any sentences or paragraphs that you think need to be worded different, feel free to leave the suggestion. The goal is always to become better. Thank you all for reading.


	3. Chapter 3

Hermione's parents pulled into the driveway of the Burrow.

"Is this it?" her mother asked hesitantly.

Suddenly, they caught sight of a blur of long red hair running towards the car.

"Hermione!" Ginny yelled as she leaned through the open window of the car to hug Hermione, "I've missed you so much!"

Hermione's parents laughed up front. "I'd say this is the right place," her dad said.

"I missed you too," Hermione gave Ginny a quick hug before grabbing her bag on the seat next to her. "Bye mum and dad!"

"Hold on a minute! You forgot to give us a hug, darling," her dad called. They had stepped out of the car, and Hermione ran back to hug each of them.

"Are you sure you'll be ok? It was nice having you all summer, but that's never enough time," her mother fretted as she tried to tuck some of Hermione's hair behind one of her ears.

"Yes, the Weasleys are great. They'll take care of everything," she said.

Hermione and Ginny walked into the house.

"Hello, dear," Molly called from the kitchen.

"Hi, Mrs. Weasley!"

Ginny started to pull Hermione up the stairs, "Have you heard anything about Harry yet?"

Hermione shook her head, "No, have you?"

"Dumbledore has everyone he knows searching, but he hasn't managed to turn up anything. Ridiculous isn't it?" Ginny started to open the door of her room, but Hermione kept walking.

"Where's Ron at? His letters have sounded kind of strange this summer," she asked.

Ginny pulled a face.

"What? Is he ok?" Hermione's mind immediately jumped to the worst possible situation.

"Yeah, he's fine. He's just in one of his moods. He's been really strange all summer, even stranger than normal for him. You go say hi; I can't stand any more of the incense. It drifts down to my room already and makes me sneeze," Ginny complained.

"Incense?" Hermione asked, but Ginny just waved her hand towards Ron's room.

As Hermione got closer to the door, she could tell what Ginny was talking about. A thick sent of incense like in Professor Trawley's classroom. She immediately rolled her eyes figuring he must be on some sort of divination kick.

She threw open the door to his room, "Couldn't even say hello to one of…"

Her voice trailed off as she stared at the room and Ron in shock.

Her friend had grown out is red hair over the summer and it was pulled into a sloppy ponytail.

He was sitting cross legged with his eyes closed and his hands on his knees. A muggle CD played was set in the corner of the room and rhythmic instrumental music flowed out of his.

After a deep breath, he slowly opened his eyes and gave her a smile, "Hello, Hermione, its good to see you."

Hermione's mouth opened and shut silently.

Before she could reply to him, sudden yelling and commotion downstairs drew their attention.

"Harry's here! We've found Harry!"

Hermione and Ron looked each other in the eyes before they were both scrambling to the doorway. They squished together to run down the small staircase at the same time.

Standing in the middle of the living room Harry stood laughing as Ginny and Molly hugged him. Ron immediately went up and grabbed Harry in a tight hug, but Hermione stood back with her mouth open. With Ron and Harry standing next to each other, she could really see the differences.

Whereas Ron had grown his hair out, Hermione had never seen Harry's hair so short before. It was cut into a short haircut with the top left slightly longer and curly. For the first time, his scar was completely unhidden.

Was that a fang earring in Harry's ear?

What was going on?

"Harry James Potter! Where have you been young man?" Molly demanded.

Harry held up his hands, "Sorry, Mrs Weasley, I can't tell you."

There was silence in the living room for a minute. Then the explosion happened.

"What do you mea,n young man?"

"Harry, I can't believe you just ran away!"

"You can't just run away and not-"

Harry held up his hands higher, "I'm sorry, but I can't tell you anything."

"Do you know that everyone's been looking for you? Dumbledore has called in everyone he knows looking for you. He has gone to a lot of trouble for you. You have worried him," Molly scolded Harry.

"What business is it of Dumbledore if I disappear? It should be fine as long as I'm back to school in the fall," Harry shrugged.

Hermione wanted to smack him, "That's Professor Dumbledore. You could at least show him some respect."

"Sorry, Professor Dumbledore. Still, my point stands, he's only my headmaster," Harry said.

"Harry, Professor Dumbledore has always been concerned by your safety," Harry interrupted Molly with a snort.

"What's that supposed to mean, Harry?" Hermione demanded.

"It doesn't matter, my point still stands. Professor Dumbledore is still just my headmaster. The Dursleys approved my trip so that's all that should matter," Harry said.

"Professor Dumbledore has always been concerned with your safety. You know that you are very important to the Wizarding World," Molly said.

Harry snorted again, "I'm a fourteen year old kid. The Wizarding World shouldn't put their hopes in me."

It took a while, but Harry, Hermione, and Ron eventually managed to get away from the others and sneak up to Ron's wouldn't have lone, Molly had already informed Harry that she was floo calling Professor Dumbledore right away.

Hermione shut the door quietly and whirled around to the boys.

"How's Bill doing?" Ron asked.

"Pretty good," Harry replied nonchalantly.

"You knew?" Hermione screeched, "Why haven't you said anything this entire summer? Dumbledore has had everyone looking for him!"

"I've been wearing a vow of silence necklace. It prevents me from saying anything and prevents all others from finding it out from me such as with truth potions or reading my mind. I only took it off this morning. Besides Mum and Dumbledore should have figured it out," Ron said.

"Excuse me?" Hermione asked quietly.

"Yeah, as smart as you are, you would have figured it out, but you weren't around. They only needed to look for the obvious details," Ron continued. Harry was shaking his head over Hermione's shoulder.

"What obvious details, Ronald?" Hermione asked.

"Bill came over for supper with his friend Andrew; they asked how Harry was doing during supper. Then, Harry dissapears off the face of the earth, but the government isn't concerned. They have confidentiality rules, so they can't say where he is or even if they know for sure. But they aren't concerned which is a big giveaway. Then, Harry gets back with a fang earring. Only one person I know wears a fang earring. Considering all that, mum's gonna realize in exactly two hours where you've been so be prepared," Ron finished.

"I still don't understand why Dumbledore would be looking for me," Harry and Ron looked at each other and shrugged.

"What on earth is bloody going on with you guys?" Hermione asked in bewilderment. She stared at her two best friends. Nothing felt very different about her, she still had the same bushy hair. She still liked to read. She was obsessed with grades and books.

On the other hand, somehow her two best friends had become completely different. A sharp jab of betrayal ran through her, like they had somehow betrayed her by both going through changes this summer without including her. Before this, she liked to think that they had been going through everything together starting with fighting the troll as the three of them.

At her use of bloody, Harry raised his eyebrows at her. He had been smiling, but he frowned when he saw how close to crying she was, "Hey, hey, we didn't mean to make you upset Hermione. We were just worried you'd tell Dumbledore."

Hermione nodded her head, "Yeah I would have just like you should have. He's only trying to do what's best for you."

Harry shook his head, "No! He's trying to do what's best for the Great Good, whatever that is. He's not concerned about me. I needed this, and he wouldn't have allowed it."

Ron raised his hands, "Perhaps it would be a good idea for each of us to share what we've been doing over the summer so we can think through everyone's perspective."

Hermione and Harry both stared at Ron with their mouths open before looking at each other. Hermione raised an eyebrow which caused Harry to burst out laughing.

Harry nodded through his laughter, "Yeah, I think that would help us a lot. I can start if you want."

They nodded at him.

"Ok, so it all started when I had a dream about Voldemort and mailed Bill about it. Then he came and the Dursleys were their normal sunny dispositions and kicked him out. When he came back the next day, he offered me a chance to go with him over the summer. I agreed."

/123—123\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

"Alright, we need to get some more supplies," Bill said as Harry let go of his arm. Bill had apparated then to the alley beside the Leaky Cauldron.

Harry followed him out of the alley and into the busy pub. Tom waved at Bill as they passed, but couldn't see Harry under his invisibility cloak.

Before apparating, Bill and Harry had stopped by the Dursleys'. Bill wanted to do everything the legal way, too much time working with the goblins had instilled that in himself. He had a formal contract for the Dursley's to sign if they did agree.

"Just in case you had agreed to come," he winked at Harry.

In addition, he had the Dursley's each wear a special stone necklace. Once it was on, it completely disappeared. He'd explained to Harry that it was a secrecy stone used for trial cases and the like that prevented the person wearing them to talk about specific things, even under truth potions. He'd told the Dursleys that it was for protection. When Harry caught his wand moving twirling slightly in his sleeve when they agreed to wear them, he shot Harry a wink.

Back outside the house, he'd had Harry slip on his invisibility cloak and they were off.

They made a quick stop to Gringotts where Harry got out some spending money for the trip and the goblins had him sign some paperwork.

"Confidentiality form. That's a non disclosure saying you understand the risks. Oh there's a form saying if some ancient magic rips you into a million pieces, your family won't come back and sue the bank," Bill commented on the forms as Harry signed them.

Once he had signed all the papers, they handed Bill a slip of paper.

"What's that?" Harry asked trying to peer over Bill's shoulders at the paper in his hand.

"The coolest perk of being an intern," Bill shook the paper, "This is why students even do this!"

"Ok but what is it?" Harry asked. Bill handed the paper to him. As Harry's eyebrows rose, a grin spread across Bill's face.

"A waiver to do magic over the summer?" Harry asked.

Bill nodded, "Yep, I started working with a cure breaker when the summer before my seventh year and Charlie was always jealous that I could do magic during the summer."

"Wow, this is amazing! Do all jobs have perks like this?"

"Nah, the goblins have a lot of sway since they hold all the money. Plus the theory is that students only need their magic for dangerous jobs like curse breaking. If you were to just work at the ice cream parlor for the summer, you wouldn't get the waiver," Bill explained.

He turned towards the goblins, "Mr Potter will need his bank statements forwarded to my post office box over the summer please."

"What bank statements?" Harry asked in confusion.

The goblin turned towards Bill, "Mr Potter is not the recipient of his bank statements. Mr Dumbledore has been collecting them to pass on to Mr Potter since his parents died."

"But I've never gotten any bank statements!" Harry said.

The goblin frowned, "If you believe that there is an issue, the bank can run an audit for a small fee of 50 gallons."

Bill nodded, "Yes, Mr. Potter would like that."

"Ok, we will get back to you with the results in about a month," the goblin said.

Bill herded Harry out of the bank before the teen could complain about the wait, "That's life in the business world. We can't get everything we want at a snap of our fingers. Now let's go to Ollivander's to get your tracer taken off of your wand."

Right before they walked into Ollivander's, Harry leaned behind a cart and swiftly pulled the invisibility cloak off.

Harry sneezed as they walked into Ollivanders; a cloud of dust had been swirled up from their arrival.

"Ahh Bill Weasley, Oak, Dragon Heartstring just like your brother Charlie, correct?" Ollivander called as he emerged from the curtain. When he spotted Harry, his eyebrows rose slightly.

"Harry Potter, Holly wand with a Phoenix tail feather. I had not expected to see you again," he finally murmured.

"Harry needs the trace taken off of his wand. He'll be working with me over the summer in the Curse Breaker field," Bill said.

Ollivander frowned. Harry noticed how his eyes flickered toward Harry's forehead. Finally he turned away, "I cannot take the trace off of his wand."

His hand was already on the curtain when Bill took a step forward, "Excuse me? I have an order form from the Ministry of Magic."

Ollivander paused with his back turned toward them, "I'm sorry, but I cannot work on that wand again. I've made my peace, it was meant to be Mr. Potter's but I can do no more with it."

Bill took another step forward, "What do you mean?"

FInally, Ollivander turned back toward them, "Mr. Potter, what did I tell you when I sold you that wand?"

Harry swallowed, "That the owner of the brother of it gave me this scar."

Ollivander nodded, "A brother wand. Two sides of the same coin. Mr. Weasley, do you know what happens with twin wands?"

"I've only heard rumors, but some say that they cannot fight against each other," Bill murmured.

Ollivander nodded, "I've seen it myself, though only twice in my entire life. There have been stirrings, rumors so to speak…"

Harry jumped in, "Do you mean rumors about Voldemort?"

Ollivander nodded.

"They're true, he's still alive. I fought him my first two years at Hogwarts," Harry told him.

Ollivanders eyes shut and a hand pinched his nose. He seemed to be talking mostly to himself, "When Nicholas told me that was why he was destroying the Socerer's Stone, I didn't want to believe it. None the less, I have doomed you by giving you that wand. If you ever have to face VOldemort in a duel, it will fail you."

"What can he do then? Give him another wand!" Bill cried.

Ollivander shook his head, "I do not have another wand in my entire shop that would work for Mr. Potter."

"What is he supposed to do then? You can't just tell him that and then leave!" Bill yelled.

Ollivander looked Harry in the eyes. Harry felt pierced by the glowing eyes looking through him.

Harry knew that Ollivander was only talking to him when he started to speak again, "If Voldemort returns, the Wizarding World will look to you even though you are only a boy. Do you have the courage to stand and fight even if you cannot win?"

Even though his first instinct was to just agree, Harry thought it through first. Could he still stand up for what was right even if he couldn't win. Images of Ginny's lifeless body in the chamber flashed through his mind. Ron laying crumpled after sacrificing himself during the chess match.

Silently, Harry nodded his head.

"Yes," Ollivander whispered, "I think you would."

Straightening from where he had leaned forward slightly to look Harry in the eyes, Ollivander turned to Bill, "I have wiped my hands of his wand. I will not work on it even to clean it."

Bill opened his mouth to argue but Ollivander raised a hand, "However, I know of another person who may be able to help you. It would not be quite legal in the eyes of morals, but that shouldn't bother you. Take Mr. Potter to 12 Knockturn Alley. Inside, hand the shop owner this piece of paper. He will explain the rest to you."

Ollivander pressed a piece of paper that had seemed to just appear into Bill's hands. With a surprising force, he pushed them both out of his shop. Before either of them could protest or ask questions, he had locked the door behind them and disappeared into the back of the shop.

Bill and Harry looked at each other. Bill's eyes were raised in surprise and Harry's eyes looked like two large balls.

"Well, that was weird. Should we do what he says? It's your choice," Bill told Harry.

Harry shook his head, "What choice is that? I can't know that if I ever have to duel Voldemort, my wand won't work."

"Look on the bright side, that means Voldemort's won't work either," Bill said cheerfully, turning towards Knockturn Alley.

"How can you still be so cheerful?" Harry grumbled.

"Eh, I'm not the one who has to face Voldemort. Besides, this is bloody fascinating. I want to see what happens next," Bill smiled at his grumpy teen charge. Harry huffed in retort and marched toward Knockturn Alley.

"What did he mean by you wouldn't be bothered by something not quite legal?" Harry asked.

Bill shrugged, "Curse Breaker tends to get into some moral grey ground. After all, we often remove curses that are protecting ancient tombs and then grave rob in the name of archeology. I've made peace with my career choices a long time ago."

Harry nodded in thought.

Eventually, they made it to the small shop in Knockturn Alley. Harry again slipped off his invisibility cloaks just before they went in.

Inside, they found a dark but clean shop. A middle-aged woman looked up at them as they entered.

"Can I help you?" She asked.

"I hope so," Bill replied as he handed her the note from Ollivander. She read over it quickly. Then she walked out from behind the counter and walked to the shop door. With a loud clang, the rusty lock slid into place.

Harry and Bill looked at each other. Harry watched as Bill silently slid his wand into his hand before they turned to face her.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\~~~~123/~~~~~~

Alright, chapter 3 done. A lot more plans for this story. Let me know what you think so far :) any guesses on what'll happen next? Any thoughts on where Harry and Bill should go/do for the summer? Let me know in a comment!


	4. Chapter 4

CBA_chapter 4

The lady flicked her wrist and her hand was in her hand. She started to wave it over Harry, but Bill shot an immobulus charm at her wrist.

She looked down at her paralyzed hand in surprise, "Now what was the for?"

"What spell are you casting on Mr Potter?" Bill demanded.

"The revealous charm. Unlike Ollie, my family wasn't blessed with seeing auras with the naked eye," she said.

Harry's eyebrows rose, "Ollie? Do you mean Ollivander?"

"Yeah, that's who this bloody notes says it's from," she complained as she motioned to her wrist, "Now could you please release my wrist?"

Bill and Harry looked at each before Bill shrugged. He waved his arm and her wrist was suddenly continuing its movements. Harry felt the tickle of magic as the charm washed over him. He was shocked to see different parts of his body light up.

"Ahh, so that's your magic flow," she muttered.

Bill nodded as he watched.

"Do you know what's going on?" Harry asked him.

Bill snorted, "I'll never get over how little you learn about the Wizarding World at Hogwarts. She's a wandmaker, so she needs to see how your magic flows through your body. Look at how concentrated your magic is around your right arm. You're right handed, so the magic is used to coming out through the wand held in your right arm. On the other side, look how dim the magic shows on your left arm. It's not used to flowing through there so it would be a lot harder to cast spells with that arm."

"Unfortunate habit of most wizards. What if they lose an arm in life? They'll be like first years again," the lady muttered as she continued waving her arm. Bill nodded in agreement.

Harry looked at the lights over his body in fascination now. The lights were bright going down his right arm, but they were brilliantly light centered around his chest. Harry couldn't see it, but the lady and Bill noticed the bulge of light over the scar on Harry's forehead.

Bill started up some small talk, "I bet you've seen some interesting magic paths."

She snorted, "Had a couple men who liked to use their second wands a little too much. Bright path going down it."

She leered at Bill who laughed, "How does that even work?"

"Too many male performance spells if you know what I mean," her eyebrows waggled suggestively.

Harry groaned, "Gross, stop it."

"Don't worry, I don't see any spell residue on you," she winked at Harry who blushed deeply.

Bill clapped a hand on his shoulder and laughed, "Let this be a warning, there's always signs left behind for what you do with magic."

Harry put his hands up, "Can we please focus here? What are we going to do about my wand and oh I don't know, but the worst dark lord of the century?"

The lady and Bill both frowned.

Eventually she spoke up, "True enough. Now you don't have too many options and I'm to sure you'll like any of them."

"Excuse me, but who are you anyway?"

"Sorry, I'm Lucy, owner of Magic Paths Shop. We sell holsters, polish, etc. I sometimes do wands, but Ollivander has practically a monopoly on that around here," she finished with a bow.

"Why did he send us to you instead of fixing the wand himself?" Bill asked.

"I said he practically has a monopoly on it. He does all the little Firsties who need their first time wands. Normally adults who need replacement wands also go to him, but sometimes he'll get a tricky adult who he sends to me. Magic gets used to certain patterns, like the phrasing of a spell. Sometimes adults have issues finding a premade wand that'll suit them," she explained.

"Ahh I understand," Bill nodded.

Harry frowned, "I don't understand."

Lucy rolled her eyes, "You will one day kid. Anyway, you have three options. I can split open your wand and try to add in an additional core."

"Try?"

"A lot of cores can be temperamental. Touching them, moving them, combining new elements can make them burn or explode or stop working. You still have to pay me for labor even if that happens by the way."

Harry clutched his wand to his chest.

She nodded and continued, "Yeah most adults don't like that option too much. You won't like the second one either. The second option is that I could destroy your old wand and make a new one."

Harry clutched his wand a little closer, "Why would you have to destroy it?"

"Your magic will always be calling out to the old one and would refuse to use the new one. We have to do the same thing with people who break their wand. The old has to be completely destroyed."

Harry felt himself start to sweat, "What's the third option?"

"I can make you a new wand for your left hand," she said.

Harry frowned, "How is that any different from a new wand for my right hand?"

She laughed, "Remember those magic channels we were looking at? You have a strong channel going down your right arm. That channel is used to using the holly wand and will call to it. You've almost never used your left arm, probably only with accidental magic. As you use the new wand, you are also creating a new channel like you did with the holly wand and your right arm."

Bill cut in, "The practice is popular is some other countries, especially where it's more dangerous like Australia. With enough practice, it's potentially possible to use both wands at the same time like in a duel."

Lucy laughed, "Don't get your hopes up kid. I've only met two people who could do that. You have to have incredible mental capacities to be able to do that. Legilimens and occulumens tend to have the mental capacities to do it but few others. I've only ever done another wand arm before for adults who's wands broke and their dominant channel was so developed it would never accept another wand."

Harry nodded, "Yeah, I think that's the option I want to go with."

She nodded, "Ok, I'll start making it. It'll be done in an hour or so."

As she walked toward the back of the shop, she threw on a heavy leather apron. At Hardy's questioning look, she grinned, "Always prepared for burning and exploding cores, Mr Potter."

Once Harry had put his invisibility cloak back on, Bill lead them back to Diagon Alley and towards the Leaky Cauldron. After he had gone several streets over in the magical world, he motioned for Harry to pull off the cloak.

"What're we doing now?" Harry asked.

"Gotta get you your supplies," Bill replied.

"Oh, I was hoping there might be a cool magical version that doesn't weigh anything and stuff," Harry muttered.

Bill laughed as he clapped Harry on the shoulders, "There is. We're just not getting it for you."

"What! Why not?" Harry asked.

"RIght of passage kid. You need to know how to handle the weight and struggle before it's easy for you. It builds character and whatnot. Most importantly, I am a big brother by trade and stuff like this is what we live for," Bill replied.

"What if I learn how to cast the featherweight charm?" Harry retorted. Bill immediately shook his head no.

"The only version of that that you would be able to cast at your level would be constantly drawing on your magic reserves. Some of the places we go will be dangerous. You'll need to have full magic strength at all times," Bill said.

Harry looked at the large pile of stuff in his arms. A hammock and the bag with the straps for it. A sleeping bag that compacted smaller than he ever imagined in its own little baggie. A large bulky backpack covered in pockets and straps with several support poles going down the back of it.

Harry groaned.

Bill laughed as he piled more stuff into Harry's arms.

Once they had checked out and walked into an alleyway, Bill shrunk the packages and handed them to Harry.

"Just for a little while," he said.

They headed back to Diagon Alley with Harry invisible once again. At the shop, Lucy grinned at them as they walked in. Her short hair was sticking up in several places like she had been running her hands through it and her apron had several new scorch marks on it.

"Ello, there. Just finished it up. A beauty if I say so myself," she greeted them as she handed Harry a box.

He reverently opened it to find…

….a very plain looking wand. It looked just like every other wand he had seen; nothing special about it.

He reached for it with his right hand, when Lucy's hand shot out and grabbed his wrist.

"Now, none of that, this is not for that hand," she told him.

A blush crept up his neck slightly, "Uh right, my bad."

He reached for the wand with his left hand. Every motion felt weird. Even holding the wand felt wrong. The wand itched to be switched over to his right hand.

Ignoring the desire, he swished the wand in the air. It wasn't very graceful, but a shower of sparks came out of the end.

Lucy and Bill clapped. Lucy stepped forward with a bottle of polish, "Cherry wood with a dragon heart string for a core. Quite an affinity for fire, you have with those two wands."

Bill grinned at Harry, "Look at you turning into a Weasley. Most of us have dragon heartstrings. Maybe to go with our fiery hair."

Harry blushed slightly, but he was pleased to be compared to the Weasleys.

"Now about payment?" he turned to Lucy's expectant eyes.

"40 gallons seems a little excessive for a wand," Harry grumbled as they approached the large building in front of them.

Bill and Harry headed into the airport. A quick apparation on Bill's part had dropped them off at London City Airport.

Harry looked around the city in amazement. He'd never seen so many people all crammed together in one space before. His neck twisted every way trying to see it all at once.

"Never been to the airport before?" Bill asked.

"No way, the Dursleys didn't like the neighbors seeing me let alone taking me on a vacation with them," Harry replied absentmindedly. He didn't notice the way Bill's hands clenched slightly at the mention of the Dursleys.

"Hey, why didn't we just floo or something?" he asked.

"Can't floo that far. Magic carpets are outlawed in England, which only leaves portkeys. Bloody miserable they are, so I normally choose the muggle version. Only a couple hours longer, but much more comfortable," Bill replied.

Harry nodded along trying to act like he had any idea what Bill meant by a portkey.

"Where're we headed anyway?" he asked as he adjusted the heavy backpack. Something in the pack was jabbing into his back. He made a mental note to move stuff around once he was on the airplane.

"Washington D.C. first," Bill replied.

Harry's eyebrows shot up, "Washington D.C.! Like the capital of America?"

"Yeah, we won't be there long. We'll take a connecting flight from there to Arizona," Bill said.

"What's in Arizona?" Harry asked.

"Tell you when we have some privacy," Bill replied.

Bill waited until they had been seated on the plane and the large man next to Harry started to snore before he leaned over and twirled his wrist slightly. Harry saw the tip of his wand sticking slightly out of his sleeve before a buzzing sound surrounded him. He looked around for bugs but Bill leaned back in his seat and spoke at a normal volume.

"Privacy charm. We can hear them, but they'll only hear mumbling from us. Unfortunate side effect is the buzzing sound," Bill explained.

"Wicked," Harry said. He leaned further away from the man next to him. Even squished as close to Bill as he dared, the strangers leg was still pressed against himself. In that situation, he finally understood why the girls would complain when a man sat with his legs apart.

"Some of the native wizards had some burial grounds out there. A new one was just discovered. It's absolutely covered in shielding charms. We need to break them and excavate the artifacts in there for Gringotts," Bill told him.

"What about the natives there currently?" Harry asked.

He wondered if it would be rude to push the man's arm off of the armrest. Bill had quickly established dominance over the armrest on the other side of Harry. Harry wasn't looking forward to spending the next several hours with his arms tucked into the sides of his body.

Bill said, "The natives will receive a portion of any profits. They didn't know the site existed."

"Ok," Harry nodded.

He pushed the man's arm gently to see how he'd react. The man snorted slightly and Harry jerked his arm back into his side. When the man opened his eyes and glared at him, Harry reached out and fumbled with the screen on the back of the seat in front of him.

The lap tray under the screen fell down with a crash and hit the top of Harry and the stranger's knees.

Harry started trying to shove it back up, "I'm so sorry!"

It fell again and hit the large man again.

"Please just stop," the man commanded. He reached over and pushed it up with a snap.

With a final glare, the man shuffled and leaned against the window. His arm was still securely on the armrest.

Harry glared at the opposing appendage.

Bill leaned over laughing, "Better get comfortable, we have several more hours on the plane."

When the plane started to descend, Harry gripped at the armrests. The plane bounced on another pocket of air and Harry felt his stomach hit the bottom of his lungs.

"I thought you loved flying?" Bill asked him.

"Yeah when I'm in control! If they let me fly the plane, I would be having a blast right now," Harry replied.

Then the stranger leaned back in the seat slightly and Harry caught a glimpse outside. His complaints (or fears depending on if Harry was labeling or Bill) were forgotten at he looked out at Washington DC.

Bill noticed him looking, "Beautiful, huh?"

Harry nodded.

Going through customs was another new experience for Harry. He stared at the winding line in despair before Bill pointed to the side. Another station slowly melted into appearance.

Harry switched directions as he realized they would be expected to go through the wizarding customs.

"Welcome to the United States of America. Passport," the customs officer held out his hand.

Harry looked at him in confusion, but Bill leaned over him and handed over a little booklet.

The man looked over it before stamping a page, "Alright."

He waved Harry on before repeating the procedure with Bill. As they passed through several more sets of metal detectors, Harry whispered to Bill, "When did you get me a passport?"

"Gringotts printed up one for you when I sent the paperwork over to them from the Dursleys. They had it waiting for us when we got there. I forgot to give it to you earlier," Bill replied.

He handed the passport to Harry. Harry flipped it open to the page with his personal identification. He groaned, "Come on, could they have gotten a worst picture? That doesn't even look like me."

Bill grabbed it back from Harry and looked at the picture before shrugging, "They probably took it as you walked into the bank. Could be worse, remind me to show you my first passport sometime."

"I'm amazed they're just allowed to create a passport for me," Harry said.

Bill rolled his eyes, "There was a form you signed giving them permission in the pile of papers at the Durseley's. You should really read over the papers more thoroughly. I could've slipped in a slave contract or something and you wouldn't have even noticed."

Harry blushed slightly because it was true. He hadn't asked many questions when he had signed the pile of papers needed to be an assistant for Bill.

They sat in the waiting area of Ronald Reagan National Airport for an hour before their connecting flight was ready. During the wait, Harry looked through the giant glass windows at the lights of the busy city.

In the next flight, they were seated in a section with only two seats. Bill allowed Harry to get the window seat.

As the plane ascended, the world dropped away.

"This is even better than a broom," Harry whispered.

"You can go a bit higher," Bill agreed leaning around Harry to look out the window too.

The sun was starting to rise as they flew over the country. Harry watched out the window at the patchwork fields and forests spread out under them. Occasionally, they would pass over a city.

The two hours passed quickly as Harry looked at the new country. He realized that they were getting closer as he saw the fields drop away and turn into red dessert.

"Which city are we stopping in?" he asked Bill.

"Phoenix," Bill replied absentmindedly as he looked through his own backpack. He had an expansion charm on it and his entire arm disappeared into it. "I know I tossed a candy bar in here for a snack."

Harry turned back towards the window. He tried to remember what geography he'd had in primary, but he had no idea where Phoenix was. Even his knowledge of where the different states were was lacking at best. He knew Washington was on the East coast and they were now on the West side of the country but that was about the extent of his knowledge.

Harry followed Bill out of the busy airport. All of their luggage was in the packs on their backs, so they were able to bypass luggage retrieval.

When the outside doors opened, Harry nearly fell over from the solid wall of heat that hit him.

"Bloody hell," he exclaimed.

"Despite the heat, we are not actually in hell," Bill replied. "We chose a bad time to get here. 10am and it's only gonna get hotter."

Harry tried to breathe but it was difficult. He'd never felt such heat before in his life. Unlike the humid days that sometimes occurs during the summer, this was a dry heat. His throat already felt dry.

He staggered slightly as he followed Bill. The jet lag was suddenly hitting him as the adrenaline wore off. Traveling across the world was catching up to him.

"Come on, we'll grab a taxi to the nearest hotel," Bill told him.

As soon as he was sitting in the taxi, Harry was asleep. Bill shook him awake long enough for him to get out of the taxi. Harry stood there blinking as Bill leaned over the seat and handed the driver some muggle money. Each blink seemed to take longer than the one before it.

They had to stand at the reception desk for several minutes as the receptionist found them a room with two single beds. Harry tried to lean the heavy pack against the receptionist desk.

Eventually they made it to the room and Harry just flopped onto the bed. He was possibly asleep mid fall onto the bed.

Bill looked at the young teenager sprawled on the bed. Harry's stiff boots stuck off the edge of the bed slightly. Bill shook his head and poked Harry, "Boots off. Your ankles will thank you tomorrow."

Harry grumbled nonsense words as he curled up and pulled the boots off without untying them. He worked his way under the thin upper blanket and went back to sleep.

Bill turned the AC onto full blast before getting ready for bed himself. His years of traveling for work had helped him to adapt better to the jet lag and exhaustion of traveling. Sitting at the desk provided in the hotel, he penned a quick letter to Andrew and another to his mother. In the letter to his mother, he only mentioned that he had made it safely to his new job and wanted to let her know. He didn't mention that he had left a day later than originally planned.

A snore from Harry's bed made him realize his own tiredness. He sealed the letters and left them on the desk. Sliding under the sheets of the other bed, he was quickly asleep.

=-/123/-=

Chapter 4 done. I think I can officially say that I am procrastinating on my finals studying for this story.

Thanks for all the reviews so far! They definitely encouraged me to write this chapter quicker, so keep it up!

What do you think about the choice of Arizona? I've actually visited there before, so I felt like I could write it better than some other places that I'd never been to. What all should they get into while at Arizona? Where should they go next? What did you think about the second wand? Too unrealistic?

Let me know in a comment!


	5. Chapter 5

Harry tried to blink the sleep out of his eyes as he tightened the strap on his backpack. Bill had woken him up at 4am, for them to leave the hotel by 5am.

Other than an hour where he woke up and ate some food, Harry had slept straight from the day before.

"You can't still be tired, you've slept over 12 hours," Bill said.

Harry rolled his eyes, "Teenager here, sleeping is my superpower."

"Hold my arm, I'll apparate us to the dig site," Bill replied.

Harry tightened the straps again before grabbing Bill's arm. The last thing he wanted was the backpack to fall off during apparition and to be in the desert with nothing to his name.

Bill twisted slightly and it suddenly felt like all the air had left Harry's body. He was being squished through the smallest tunnel in the world.

He stumbled as solid ground hit his legs again. Bill reached out a hand to steady him before starting walking. Only a few feet away, Harry could see a bustling village of tents and people moving about. 

"Weasley! About time you got here, I was expecting you yesterday. Who's the runt?" a moving square of muscle was walking toward them. The man was tall with thick arms and legs. Bill was a tall man like his father, but the man made him look short. Harry straightened his spine but knew there was no hope of him competing with either of the men.

"This is Harry. He's my assistant for the summer," Bill said as he shook hands with the man. "Harry, this is Mr. Kyller. He runs the basecamp."

"Yeah, try to keep people from dying and clean up the bodies when they do. Come on, I want you taking off these enchantments as soon as possible. We've gotten the other sites cleared but there's one that we didn't want to touch the runes on it," Kyller led them into the camp.

Harry looked around him. It was a man's world there, full of dirt and sweat. Nothing smelled good.

Harry felt like he had somehow reached the pinnacle of manliness.

"Nice, here huh? Only sad part is there aren't too many girls around," Bill told Harry as they walked through the camp. A swirl of dust drifted into the air with every step.

"Why is that the sad part?" Harry asked.

Bill laughed, "You'll understand one day kid. Just give it another year or two, and you'll look at girls completely different."

Harry made a face and tried to cool off. As the sun rose in the sky, it just got hotter and hotter. It felt like a physical suit of heat was wrapped around his skin.

Suddenly, he heard an Irish voice, "Tha' ya buggers ah!"

Andrew and Bill clapped each others backs before Andrew gave Harry a high five.

"What's happening with the site?" Bill asked.

"Most was the standard Elhaz rune. Easy enough for mah to counta'. Then we found an Algiz rune. Last one o' them exploded in mah face, bu' I know tha's yah specialty so ah left it for ya," Andrew said.

They started to walk toward the other edge of the camp with Harry following slightly behind them.

"Hey Bill, is there somewhere I can set my bag down?" Harry called.

Bill waved his hand toward the tents without turning around, "Just find an empty spot and stick it."

Harry stopped and started to take off his backpack. He had over tightened the straps and he got himself stuck in it. Spinning slightly in place, he tried to use the weight of the backpack to get it to fall off.

Suddenly a scream filled the air.

Harry froze in place before spinning to look around. A giant black cat looking creature was crouching on the chest of one of the men in the camp.

Frantically trying to get the backpack off to free his hands, Harry got his hand stuck at the bottom of the strap. His arm was bent to look like a chicken wing. In front of him, the black animal roared in the face of the man who screamed again. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry spotted two more of the animals slinking through the camp.

Harry started frantically flapping his chicken arm and the backpack slid off.

He reached for the holly wand in his pocket, but it got stuck on the fabric of the pocket. He tugged at it as one of the animals turned to look at him.

It slowly approached him.

The wand slipped off of the fabric it was stuck on. Harry pointed the wand at the animal and shot the expelliarmus charm at it. The spell bounced harmlessly off the back of the animal. The animal didn't even flinch. Harry kept shooting spells at the animal, but none of them had any affect on the animal that kept getting closer.

"Hey, Bill!" Harry yelled. He glanced over his shoulder. Bill and Andrew were both fighting another of the black animals. A glint of silver kept flashing.

"Bill!" he yelled again.

Bill glanced at him and his eyes widened, "Hold on Harry!"

Harry looked back at the animal in front of him and shot another spell at it. The cat leaned back slightly before jumping onto Harry.

The weight pushed him onto his face. His head hit the dry earth with a thud. On top of him, the animal opened its mouth and growled at him. Harry saw rows of teeth. As it growled, a crown of scales around the head opened into a hood and fluttered at him.

Grasping in the dirt on either side of him, Harry's fingers brushed against a solid pole. He grabbed it and pulled. As he did, the animal swatted at his head with a giant paw. The world darkened slightly at the impact, but Harry didn't need his sight to stab at the animal with the pole.

The pole brushed off the animal's skin. As his eyesight cleared, Harry aimed for the animals eye.

With a sickening squish, the pole popped the eye of the animal. It started shaking its head back and forth to get the pole out. The roar it let out made Harry's ears ring.

He reached up wrapped his hand around the pole. The animal's shaking nearly ripped his arm off but Harry held on.

Using any strength he had left, Harry kept pushing the pole into the animal's eye socket.

The cat let out a crooning sound before Harry felt all the weight of the animal on his chest. He tried to shove it off, but it was too heavy for him. The edges of his vision started to go black. Eventually, the world faded away completely.

On the other side of the camp, Bill and Andrew used knives to fight the night fury attacking them.

"What's a night fury doing in the camp?" he yelled at Andrew as they fought.

Andrew shrugged, "What're three of them doing in the camp? Eh, watch that tail!"

The scales on the tail had pressed together to form a single long spike which the animal jabbed at the two men.

"Operation divide and conquer!" Bill said. He stepped directly into the face of the animal and stabbed at it. The blade was longer than his forearm, but he was still closer to the animal than he wanted to be.

He started stabbing at the animal's face. Behind its back, Andrew had cast a disillusionment charm. Bill knew that he was sneaking up.

Suddenly the fury started twisting trying to snap at something on its back. The charm slipped off to reveal Andrew straddling the animals back. He grabbed some of the loose scales on the neck of the animal. He used its distraction and confusion to yank the head back and cleanly slice open its neck.

Before he was even certain the animal was dead, Bill was rushing towards Harry. He knew Andrew could handle himself from here.

When he spotted the animal collapsed, he started to feel relief.

Then he spotted arms and legs sticking out from under the animal.

Bill dropped to his knees beside the dead fury and started to roll it off. Underneath of it was a very still Harry Potter. His eyes were closed.

Suddenly, all Bill could think about was a letter he'd received from Ron that morning.

 _Hey Bill_ ,

 _Thanks for rescuing Harry. I know you went out on a bit of limb here, but I really appreciate it. And I know you've offered me the chance to go with you on summers before so I'm not jealous or anything. At first I was a little bit, but now I'm just thankful Harry is ok._

 _Anyway, I just wanted to thank you and to warn you. Bad stuff happens around Harry without him even doing anything so just always be prepared. I don't know, maybe you should check if there's a bad luck charm on him because I've never met anyone with such bad luck._

 _Ron_

Bill remembered how he'd scoffed at the letter. He was a Master Curse Breaker after all, what trouble could a 13 year old kid cause anyway?

Now as he looked at the seemingly lifeless body of the boy-who-lived, he realized Ron's warning had been quite astute.

Shaking himself out of his revelry, he immediately started checking for a pulse and breathing. He cheered silently to himself when he caught a pulse in the carotid artery. He opened Harry's mouth and tilted his head back. Using a modified wind charm, he funneled some air into Harry's lungs, watching as his chest expanded.

Suddenly, Harry arched his back and gasped. His eyes opened wide and his hand was immediately grasping for his wand.

"Hey, hey calm down kid. The night fury is dead," he put a hand on Harry's shoulder.

"Night fury? Is that what it's called? Wait, I'm breathing again. Did you just give me CPR? Gross!"

Bill looked at the teen with confusion as he started wiping his mouth and spitting.

Andrew walked over and stood next to him, "What's wrong with the kid?"

"I don't know, maybe oxygen loss? He started yelling about some sort of CD-R or something and then he spit," Bill said.

"You don't know what CPR is? What'd you do to get me breathing then?" Harry paused and asked.

"Just used a modified wind charm to blow a gentle, steady stream of air into your lungs," Bill said.

Harry came back and hugged Bill, "Bless you."

Bill tried to push the teen off, but Andrew drew their attention with his slow whistle.

"Dang, Bill, come look a' what the kid did. Righ' through the eye," Andrew had one hand on the pole sticking out of the animal's eye. As Bill and Harry walked back over, he pulled it out of the eye socket and held up the bloody tent stake.

Bill clapped Harry on the shoulder, "Good move! Instincts like that probably saved your life."

Harry shrugged, "So what is a night fury anyway?"

"Tha is a night fury. Desert animal, mixture of ah lizard and panther. Cold blooded like ah reptile, fur of mammal. It hunts magical armadillos and other animals in the desert so it's scales and fur are resistant to almost any magic. It does have several weaknesses of the physical kind though," Andrew explained.

"Yeah I tried hitting it with every spell I could think of it but it just seemed to bounce off it," Harry said.

Bill and Andrew nodded.

Bill spoke up, "Sometimes in a job like this, you have to think outside of the normal magical mind frame. That's why Andrew and I carry muggle weapons to defend ourselves. Many magical animals or even some spells are strong against magic but have a weakness against physical defenses like knives. Of course, you get some muggle animals like elephants who are resistant to almost any muggle weapon but are very susceptible to magic. It is crucial to be prepared for anything even if some wizards would scoff at you because you use muggle weapons. Have to think outside of the typical wizard mindframe."

Harry looked thoughtful, "Is that why we took a muggle plane ride?"

Bill nodded, "Yes. For one, to get an international portkey, I have to apply at the ministry with how many people and who they are so customs can record it. Then we would have a public record that Dumbledore could look up saying where you were going and with who. He'd have you back by the end of the day, not to mention the info would also be available to Death Eaters. On the other hand, muggles and wizards almost never work together, so the muggle plane station didn't send the info of our leaving to the ministry. And I doubt many people especially death eaters would consider looking at muggle records to find you. Plus, in case they were to, I ordered your ticket under a different name. My charms easily worked on muggles, but wizards would not have been so easily fooled."

Andrew nodded, "Plus, curse breaking is pretty much archeology. It's not necessarily the most popular profession among others, and many of us will compete among one another. Bill normally flies because it helps prevent people from finding him who want to stop his work."

"And the goblins don't mind? I thought time was money?" Harry replied.

"Yeah true, but what takes more time; one day lost to travel or the years it would take to train another master curse Breaker if I'm killed?"

"Ahh, that makes sense," Harry agreed.

Andrew turned to Bill, "I assume we'll be gathering parts to sell?"

"Might as well make a profit off this," Bill agreed.

Harry watched as they used knives and their wands to start cutting apart the animal they had killed.

"Hey are those your weapons?" Harry asked.

They paused to nod and show him the long knives. Bill used one longer knife while Andrew used two slightly shorter knives.

"That's so cool!" Harry said.

Andrew laughed, "That's not all kid."

He pulled back his outer shirt to reveal a pistol and a wrapped up bullwhip.

"Good for danger of any sort; animal or lady," he winked at Harry.

Harry blushed but laughed as he turned to Bill, who grinned and also revealed the chest holster that had previously hidden his own pistol.

"Better give the kid a proper weapon too. Might not always be a tent stake around," Andrew said.

Bill nodded, "True, I think I have just the thing."

He waved his wand and his beaten up backpack that he had left in their hotel room popped into existence. Seeing it made Harry look for his own backpack. He spotted it lying next to the dead animal.

He turned back toward Bill who was rummaging in the backpack, "What do I get to carry? A sword? Or a gun? Maybe even a whip like Andrew!"

Bill laughed and pulled out…

"...a slingshot?" Harry asked.

Bill and Andrew laughed, "Don't sound so excited kid. This is the best starter weapon. You need to learn how to use something like this appropriately and work up to the bigger stuff so you don't hurt anyone. Anyway, that's been charmed so it'll always have a stone in it when you go to use it."

Andrew reached into a hidden pocket, "Here, I have something for you too."

"Yay, a butter knife," Harry said dryly as he accepted the tiny sheathed knife from Andrew. When he pulled it out, he was even more disappointed. The sheath had made it look slightly bigger than it really was. All said, the actual blade was about the size of his pointer finger.

Then he ran his finger over the blade like he'd seen some people do in Dudley's movies and jerked when the blade cut him.

"That's sharp!" He said, sucking on the finger.

Bill rolled his eyes, "And that's why we aren't giving you a big knife."

"Are you gonna collect stuff off the animal you killed?" Andrew asked.

"Why would I?" Harry asked.

"Rare potion supplies. Can sell them for a pretty penny. Stuff like this helps supplement what we make from Gringotts," Bill replied.

He tossed several jars at Harry who struggled to catch them all at once, "Supply jars. They have stasis charms to keep materials fresh. We can split this night fury and I'll show you some of the stuff you wanna look for."

In a couple minutes, they had removed large amounts of the fur and scales as well as collecting some blood. Harry was surprised that the jars kept holding more and more of the blood no matter how much he put in. He assumed there must be an expansion charm on it.

"Alright then," Bill said when he was finished.

Harry grabbed his backpack and put the jars in it.

Around the rest of the camp, people were setting stuff back up. Several people had walked by and talked to Bill and Andrew. Harry had figured out that only one man had died, the original man the night fury had sat on. He was a local who had been acting as a guide, so neither Bill or Andrew had known him.

Harry spotted Mr Kyller marching toward them. He wondered if the man marched everywhere he went, but was willing to bet he did.

"Don't worry about cleaning this up, Weasley. Get to the dig site and get it opened up," he barked when he was close enough.

"Alright, sir," Bill replied and followed Andrew out away from the tents. On the other side of the last tent, a bluff rose straight up. Harry tilted his head back looking at it.

Up to halfway up the bluff, a system of scaffolding and swinging ropes held various men who were digging, sorting, and taking pictures. As he leaned further back, Harry thought he could see movement on top of the bluff too.

"Nice system they have going," Bill commented.

Andrew nodded, "Yep, the natives helped a lot with showing where it was more stable and such. We have a system of cave sites on the side of the cliff as well as a burial site covering the entire top."

Bill whistled, "A lot to catalog."

"Lucky we were only called in fo' the caves," Andrew grinned.

They stepped onto a long board with ropes on either side. After recieivng a motion to jump on, Harry gingerly stepped onto the swaying board.

"Grab tha' rope, Harry, jus' tha one in front now," Andrew grabbed the rope on his own side of the board.

As they pulled their ropes, the board rose jerkily into the air. Harry tried to pull at the same speed as Andrew.

When they had reached the other scaffolding, Harry looked down. He was glad to not be afraid of heights; they had to be 40 or 50 feet in the air.

Bill and Andrew stepped eagerly off of the board onto the firmer looking system of scaffolding, but Harry hesitated.

"What's the matter?" Bill asked.

"How is that scaffolding supported? It looks like its just floating in air," Harry muttered as he leaned down to look at the bottom of it.

Andrew and Bill laughed, "DId you forget you were a wizard Harry? Its floating by magic."

Harry blushed and quickly followed them onto the scaffolding. They started to walk into a cave that the scaffolding butted up against. The inside was illuminated by a row of floating orbs of light.

Stick figures danced in the edges of the light. Bison drawn in earthy colors raced across the gently waving pictures of grass. There was no room to add another drawing. Harry's neck hurt from twisting it to look at everything.

"A tribe of magical native americans used to use these caves for their yearly rituals. Cool huh?" Andrew confided with Harry as Bill dropped his backpack and started pulling supplies out. Harry nodded absentmindely as he walked over to brush the drawings with his fingertips. When his fingers reached, the drawings would move away. A brave looking warrior walked up and attempted to poke his finger with a spear. Harry drew his hand back.

Suddenly, they were distracted by yelling outside. Harry jumped and started to walk toward the entrance of the cave.

"Another night fury attack?" he wondered outloud.

"Sounds more like anger than fear," Bill muttered as he followed Harry.

Outside, they found a crowd of people gathered around the bottom of the scaffolding and yelling.

Harry spotted Mr Kyller on one side of the group. On the other, he saw what looked like a group of native americans. Harry was surprised that they were dressed like any other American; however, their darker complexion and long braids suggested who they were.

"You are tresspassing!" he heard Mr Kyller yell.

"We are attempting to save your lives! Those caves are cursed. All who enter die," one of the men yelled back.

"Lucky we have two curse breakers with us, huh?" Mr Kyller yelled back.

Andrew and Bill cheered from their spot on the bluff and suddenly the group was turning to look at them.

Bill sent what Harry recognized as a cushioning charm towards the ground before he and Andrew just walked off the bluff. Harry rushed forward to look and saw Andrew cast a featherlight charm onto the two of them. They drifted softly down to the ground before approaching the group.

"Gotta use that sometime, probably give Hermione a heart attack," Harry muttered to himself.

"How can we help you men?" Bill asked.

"You can help by leaving," another man growled.

"Sorry, mate, me paycheck wouldn' like tha' option too much," Andrew said.

"Your life would like it though," the first man said.

"As yes, you did mention a curse didn't you?" Bill said.

Several of the men nodded, "Of course, our ancestors didn't want this site to be disturbed so they warded it against intruders. The cost of trespassing is death."

Mr Kyller stepped forward, "Now, we have gotten permission to be here."

"Of course, from the American government. Like they've cared before," one of the men said.

"From the owners of this land, but we are paying the tribes whose ancestors used to live here. That seems more than fair," Mr Kyller continued.

"Plus, this isn't an active ritual site anymore, is it? I heard ya can't use it anymore because your ancestors forgot the password and now even you're locked out," Andrew said.

"Once we finish, we will leave the curses removed, and you will actually be able to use the site again," Bill finished.

"We aren't concerned about the use of the land. We didn't forget the password, we swore not to use it anymore after all the deaths. In one of the rituals, a spirit was unleashed. It has taken over this land. If you disturb it, you will bring death on everyone for miles," the first man retorted.

The other man stepped forward until he was toe to toe with Bill, "To be honest, I don't care too much about you upstart British, but I do care about my family. If you activate the curse, my entire family is doomed because of you."

Bill softened his voice to be more soothing, and Harry had to strain to hear him, "We do not plan to just unleash an evil spirit. Your family will be safe. I am trained in what I do."

The group paused as the man seemed to consider the truth of Bill's words.

He nodded once sharply before pulling back slightly.

Bill's head whipped to the side from the force of the sudden punch. Harry winced in sympathy.

Andrew didn't hesitate to grab the man's shirt and sink his fist into the man's gut.

It was sudden mayhem as both groups started attacking each other.

 **Author's note:**

 **So chapter 5! I hope you can see the undercurrents of Indiana Jones. I pulled major inspiration from there :)**

 **Also, this story is meant to be fun. Feel free to not take it too seriously. To the one reviewer who had issues with Bill and Harry taking a plane, did this chapter help to fill that issue/potential plot hole? Haha**

 **Other than that, thank you so much for the reviews and suggestions! I did like the suggestion of doing something different from the jungles of South America, so that's how we ended up here. Bill and Harry still might get there eventually though.**

 **For today, any ideas about what they'll find in the caves or what obstacles they'll face getting into the caves? More reviews mean quicker chapters ;)**


	6. Chapter 6

Harry stared down at the fight. He debated what he should do; whether he should try to bring the scaffolding down or stay where he was.

Before he could make a decision, the fight started to die down. Most the natives had been subdued and were sitting with their backs against each other.

Mr Kyller seemed to be yelling at them. As Harry listened, he could here bits drifting up.

"I was not going to call the authorities, but you will not attack my workers," Mr Kyller seemed to be saying.

Bill held up a hand, "It's fine, we don't need to call the cops. No one is hurt too badly."

"Don't worry about my decision, Weasley! Get back up the cliff and do your job," Mr Kyller barked.

Bill gave him a sarcastic looking salute before he and Andrew walked back over to the scaffolding. Harry stepped back onto the solid platform as the free piece went back down. Bill and Andrew floated up and stepped onto the platform next to him.

Suddenly, a voice of one of the rioters came up, "My people would have put the solution with the problem! We are smart like that."

"Enough trouble making," Mr Kyller yelled.

Bill and Andrew shared a look before Bill shook his head.

"Sorry about that Harry," Bill said as he grabbed a salve out of one of the pockets of his cargo pants and rubbed it into his bloody knuckles.

"Does that happen a lot? And what's that?" Harry asked.

"A general healing lotion. Should close up the split knuckles. And no, it doesn't happen every time, but it happens more than I would like," Bill's hand clenched as the wounds knit themselves back together. The grimace on Bill's face told Harry that the salve probably felt about as good as the potions Madame Pomfrey used at Hogwarts.

"Bloody rebel rousers. A'ways tryin tah staht a figh, prob'y feel lah they didn' geh enough money," Harry noted that frustration seemed to bring out more of Andrew's accent.

"Ehh, sometimes it's just ignorance. They honestly seemed scared for their families," Bill replied.

As they debated whether the Natives had wanted more money or were serious (Harry felt like perhaps it was a mixture), Bill and Andrew moved into the cave. The floating lights followed with them and illuminated everything. The open hallway suddenly ended with a door carved right into the stone. As they sat down their bags, Harry walked over and ran his hand over the door. He couldn't feel any sort of seam or hinge.

"Magical door. Have to break the protection runes on it for it to open," Bill muttered as he slipped on his glasses. Andrew tossed Harry a pair as he put his own. Harry caught his with one hand and put them on over his regular glasses.

At first, everything looked double, but his eyes finally adjusted. He had to put one hand on the rims to hold both onto his nose.

Once he had the opportunity to look at the door, he was surprised by the swirling lines he could see going around it. They went in a circle clockwise around it.

"What is that?" he asked.

"The magic holding the door shut. The glasses enable us to see the magic at work, but it's not perfect. Things tend to look slightly blurry or faded," Bill replied as he waved his wand.

Harry watched as the swirls seemed to stutter before going counter-clockwise.

"Typical Algiz rune. Shouldn't be a problem for me to remove it," Bill muttered. As he waved his wand, the swirls seemed to moving faster. Harry understood what Bill had meant about the glasses not being perfect. The lines seemed to fade in and out of focus like a TV with a bad connection.

Finally, Harry watched as Bill drew a knife out of his bag and cut at the swirls. Harry didn't expect a physical knife to do anything to the magic.

With a burst of light, the swirls blew away from the door like fireworks. Harry threw an arm over his face, but nothing touched him. When he pulled his arm away, the door was sliding open and the magic has disappeared.

"Good job, mate. No physical backlash," Andrew said as they watched the door open.

Bill turned to Harry, "Secret to Curse Breaking I learned from my mentor. This is a silver blade dipped in a special potion. The potion makes it so it can cut through magical lines. Once a line has been severed, the magic stops. It must maintain a continuous circuit in order to be stable. Without the stability, it has to be repowered. The magician who originally set these runes would have cut his connection as soon as the magic was self-sustaining, so the wards couldn't find new magic to keep it going. Therefore, the magic fails and the wards fall."

"Ya gotta be careful though. If the ward was powerful enough, it can blow up in your face when you cut the circle. Ya have to cut in just the righ' spot so it dissipates instead of exploding back out," Andrew added.

"Kind of like electricity," Harry muttered.

Bill shrugged, "I think so. A lot of wizards would try to use a lot of complex spells to stop the magic from flowing and then severing the circle. My method cuts out a lot of steps and work."

With the stone door moved from the new doorway, a low-lying fog creeped out. Bill and Andrew didn't seem to notice it as they walked into the room, but Harry watched it with a sense of hesitation. Something felt wrong about it as it crawled along the floor of the hallway without dissipating.

Within the white cloud, Harry almost felt like he could see eyes looking back at him. He squared his shoulders and followed the other two into the cavern. The floating lights illuminated his steps on the rough stone floor.

On the other side of the door, the cave widened into a broad cavern. More of the moving drawings covered the tall walls. In the center of the cavern was a square alter. Even in the dim light, Harry could see dark stains covering the altar and spilling out onto the floor.  
Harry wondered if it was some sort of potion but had a feeling that it was probably blood.

Bill and Andrew had moved toward the altar, but Harry didn't have much desire to follow them. Instead, he looked more at the pictures moving across the walls. The first picture he saw drew his attention.

A small native was kneeling before what looked like the altar in the middle. Behind him was another man wearing a tall feather hat. Feather man had his arms raised and seemed to be praying. All around, people surrounded the pair and had their arms raised as well. The drawing seemed to be dirty because little spots covered the figures in it.

Blood squirted across the drawing as the feather man swiftly reached down and slit the kneeling figure's throat. The kneeling figure's body was draped over the altar.

Harry shuddered as the wall drawing reset itself with the man kneeling and the feather leader standing behind him.

"Guess that solves the question of what the dark stains are," Harry said.

The next several pictures depicted people apparently sick, laying with festering sores covering their bodies.

"I wonder what the connection is," Harry muttered to himself as the cave drawings went back to depicting different ritual acts relating with the altar. An idea was trying to form in his mind, but he was having issues connecting all the pieces.

Before he could think on things too long, Bill called to him, "Harry come over here. I need you to hold some equipment."

Harry ran back over to them and held the strange metal contraption that Bill placed into his hands. It was a long bronze cylinder with flexible arms coming off of it in every direction.

"Where's the monster those men claimed would escape if we opened the cave?" Harry asked as he looked around the cavern. Andrew rolled his eyes.

"Nothing is coming in on any readings. I can't sense any living or magical creatures in the cavern. There doesn't even seem to be any more wards," Bill muttered.

Andrew snorted, "Started that fight for nothing. Absolutely ridiculous."

"Maybe the animal died in all the years of being locked in here with nothing to feed off of?" Bill suggested.

Andrew shrugged, "Could be, even magical things will eventually die with no food."

"Alright, well if things are safe, we better start taking things out," Bill said.

"I thought you guys just broke the charms keeping the cave locked and then left?" Harry asked.

"It depends on each site. With this style of ritual site, there are normally backup wards. Gringotts pays us to keep the general workers alive. That means we open the door and do the initial movement of the artifacts in case of any magical trip lines that could flare up. Better we move it and know how to handle it, then send in the workers to just carry stuff out," Andrew explained.

Bill poured some water onto a rag he had in a pocket and rubbed the damp cloth over a corner of the altar. The light in the room sparkled against the stone revealed under the dark stains.

Bill whistled, "Jewel encrusted gold altar. Gringotts will appreciate this site.

"I see a bonus comin' our way," Andrew replied as the two grinned at each other.

Harry was kept busy for over an hour helping the two curse breakers to start cleaning up the blood after the altar and then start moving stuff. In the back of the cavern, it was still dark, but Harry could see the outlines of many shapes. As they made their way to the back of the cavern, they discovered more artifacts like a table with ritual knives and rows of benches.

"They would've needed to fit the entire tribe in here for certain rituals," Bill muttered as he ran his hand over the table of knives.

Harry picked up a heavy stone knife with a jagged edge, "Can I have one of these knives?"

"No way kid," Andrew replied.

"Don't even pick them up, you don't want to get any of this blood in you if you cut yourself again. Who knows what kinds of diseases there may be," Bill muttered. Bill and Andrew moved away from the table, and Harry stuck his tongue out at their backs.

The back of Andrew's shirt was soaked with sweat.

Harry frowned.

He felt cold in the dark cave, but he noticed that there was sweat beading on Bill's and Andrew's foreheads.

As they walked, Bill stumbled slightly. Harry reached out and supported his arm.

"Are you guys ok?" he asked.

Bill was completely pale, and he seemed to be shaking from the cold even though he was soaked in sweat. Harry's hand felt slippery on Bill's shoulder from how wet his shirt was. Harry helped Bill to sit down against the cave wall. Andrew sat down heavily on a bench.

"I just haven't felt well for the last hour, but it suddenly got worst," Bill muttered as he shook heavily.

"Same," Andrew muttered.

The pieces clicked in Harry's head.

"Oh no," he muttered as he looked back and forth between them and back at the cave walls. "I think I know what the natives were talking about."

Bill and Andrew looked at him in confusion, before Bill asked, "What are you talking about?"

"That fog that came out. I don't think it was from the coldness of the cave. I think it had a disease in it that had been sealed up in the cavern," Harry said. "There are drawings on the wall of people laying around sick. I didn't understand the connection but now I get it."

Bill seemed to pale further, "If that's true then we've unleashed it."

"Over the years, the disease contained in here became known as a creature," Andrew muttered, "Maybe it actually is a creature that brings sickness. Maybe the fog is how it feeds, but when the people sacrificed to it, it wasn't hungry and wouldn't unleash the disease."

"Like a spider who melts their victims' insides and then drinks it up," Bill seemed to be continuing Andrew's thought line.

They staggered to their feet. With Harry helping to support them, the three made it to scaffolding where they looked down. All around the campsite, the men were laying on the ground. Many were pale and sweating.

Slowly reaching the edges of the camp, the fog was spreading out in a slow circle. It hadn't thinned out at all and still hung right above the ground. The only good thing Harry could think was that in an hour, it hadn't gotten very far. He wondered if it would start to speed up.

Bill suddenly gave a shout, "What is that?"

He was staring down at his arms as red bumps started to form. Harry felt sick as they bubbled up like the burns he used to get from cooking. He had a feeling they would soon burst to create the festering wounds the drawings had on them.

On Harry's other side, Andrew pulled up his long pant legs to show similar red sores forming there.

"Why am I not sick?" Harry asked.

"You must be immune," Bill replied as he and Andrew sunk to the ground again.

Andrew started swatting the air in front of him, "No! Go away!"

Bill grabbed his arms, "Andrew, stop it! There's nothing there, it's just the fever."

Andrew shook his head, "It looked so real."

As Harry looked down over the campsite, he couldn't see anyone else who looked to be doing ok.

"Bill, is there anything we can do to stop that fog?" he asked.

Bill looked down at the fog, "If it reaches the nearby towns, they'll all die."

"I realize that, that's why I asked if there was anything we could do to contain it!" Harry's voice raised with his frustration. Bill and Andrew seemed to be thinking and moving at half speed.

Bill waved his wand and a glowing shield formed around the edges of the campsite, just outside of the fog. Slowly, Harry watched as the fog butted up against it. The fog seemed to be contained by it, but it poked itself against the glowing barrier as though looking for a way out. Harry looked over Bill and how weak he looked. If Bill passed out from the fever, the fog would be free to escape again.

Down in the campsite, Harry could see the natives still laying where they had been placed after the fight. They looked much worse now.

A memory of the warning the one native had yelled before Bill and Andrew had gone back into the cave ran across Harry's mind.

"They wouldn't create the problem without also including the solution," he muttered to himself.

Andrew looked up at him, "What did you say?"

"I was just repeating what that one man yelled after the fight. He said his ancestors wouldn't have created a problem without also including the solution," he muttered.

Harry turned and ran back into the cave.

"Where are you going?" Bill yelled as he left.

"There must be a solution in here," Harry called over his shoulders as he looked back over the drawings. He went past the grotesque cycle of the kneeling figure getting his throat slit; past the drawings of people laying in pain with sores covering them. Past a drawing of diseased bodies being piled up and burnt, probably in an attempt to stop the disease.

Harry swallowed as he thought about all those men in the campsite ending up like that.

After that, the drawings seemed to be showing the steps of different rituals.

Harry stared over them and wished for Hermione.

He couldn't find some sort of common theme. He wished for a simple instruction list labeled, "This is how you stop the evil fog of doom in three simple steps."

"Ok Potter, think. What do you know?" He asked himself. "Better, what would Hermione know?"

He looked back at the drawings, "There's only so much wall space, so it makes sense that they would only include stuff that was important."

Andrew came staggering in, "Hey bud, Bill's not doing so well. Bad news, I don't know the shield spell he used, so the fog will continue to spread when he passes out."

Harry watched him swat at something in the air. He thought Andrew was just having another fever delusion, but then he watched him hit a mosquito against his pant leg. Blood bloomed on Andrew's tan pants.

"Blood…" Harry muttered. He looked back through the wall drawings. "There's a common denominator in the ritual steps! They all include blood!"

For some reason, he always felt drawn back to the first drawing. As he looked closer, Harry frowned at the dots on the figures. Then he squinted a bit.

They weren't dots or little pieces of dirt at all, all the people except for the sacrifice were covered in the same sores as everyone else!

"Yes! I've figured it out. Somehow clean blood on the altar stopped the disease!" Harry cried.

A pit started to form in Harry's stomach. An unease bloomed and spread until goosebumps had covered his arms.

He was the only person not sick.

He was the clean blood sacrifice.

Andrew was slumped against the wall shaking. Harry was positive he hadn't listened to anything that Harry had been saying. Only Harry knew the solution to the fog.

Slowly, Harry walked over to the table with the sacrificial knives. After staring at the drawing so much, Harry knew exactly which knife was needed. It was the largest and most jagged. Many layers of blood from previous sacrifices covered it.

Harry remembered Bill's words from earlier and snorted.

Without thinking too much about it, he pulled out his little pocket knife that Andrew had given him. Had that really happened so recently? It had only been a few days since he had been given the opportunity to escape the Dursleys. It was typical of his luck that it would end so soon.

The drawings were descriptive, but Harry couldn't do it exactly like that anyway. He didn't have a priest who could stand over him and slit his throat. He didn't know if there was a special spell he had to say ahead of time.

He sat down the large jagged knife and carried his own small blade to the altar.

Harry sat down on the altar. Was his life worth a bunch of strangers that he had just met? No one would ever know.

Then he thought of the Weasleys. They would hate him if he let their oldest son die. That family, who had treated him more like family in three years than the Dursleys did his entire life, would never forgive him.

And when Bill passed out or passed away, whichever came first, the fog would continue to spread. Harry had a feeling it would keep killing people until it got the blood it wanted. Was his life worth so many people dying?

 **Author's note**

Well there's a cliffhanger! Let me know in a review what you think should happen! Was this what you expected, or did I surprise you?

 **Omake (inspired by a guest review)**

Bill and Harry had stopped at a local cafe for some food before they went back to the hotel for the night. Bill wanted Harry to get to try some authentic American food while in the country.

"Hey Bill, I think I see one of my classmates!" Harry darted across the street. Bill shook his head, but followed the boy who seemed fond of running away.

"Hey Cedric! Cedric, hold up!" Harry called as he reached out. He was surprised by the hardness of the shoulder and how pale Cedric looked. As the man turned around, Harry realized his mistake.

"Oh, you're not Cedric, sorry," Harry blushed slightly.

The man looked frustrated at being stopped, "I have no idea who you are talking about, but I'm in the middle of something."

"Edward, we found her! She's in the dance studio!" a small, pixie like girl called. Harry noticed that they shared the same pale skin and golden eyes.

The man turned faster than Harry thought possible and darted away. Bill put a hand on Harry's shoulder.

"Sorry, I thought that was Cedric Diggory from school," Harry muttered. The strange pair slipped between two people and were suddenly gone.

Bill snorted, "American vampires. Pansies compared to the Romanian version.

"Yeah… wait! What?"


	7. Chapter 7

"Harry, stop!" Bill's voice was weak, but still rang in Harry's ears.

Harry turned towards him with sad eyes, "It's OK Bill. It's not fair for me to live while all of you die."

Bill rolled his eyes, "Listen, don't be some self sacrificing idiot. You don't have to die."

As Harry was staring at him in shock for his nonchalant attitude, Bill shook Andrew on the shoulder, and he blinked blearily, "Wha...what's going on?"

Using his shoulder as a prop, Bill got Andrew standing. They looked at Harry who's shock had switched to starring defiantly back at them. He wouldn't let everyone die.

"First of all, we need a way to permanently hold the fog," Bill whispered. He seemed weak but determined. "It wouldn't help if you died, but then Gringotts just sent more people."

Harry blinked at him, "I guess I didn't think about that. Would they really send more people if I died in here?"

Bill rolled his eyes again, "Of course they would; it's a bank."

"Ah might have a solution," Andrew waved at his bag, Harry ran and opened it up. Inside, he found what looked like a muggle thermos, "Ah bought it off a guy who used it tah hold dragon fire among other things. It should be able to hold the fog."

"OK, we'll work together. Harry, when you bleed on the altar, the fog should be pulled back in. When that happens, Andrew will use the thermos to suck in the fog," Bill said.

"What are you going to do?" Harry asked.

"I'm going to cut the connection between you and the fog once it's contained," Bill said.

Harry took a deep breath and slit his palm as his breathed out. It stung, but compared to other injuries like the basilisk fang, it was nothing.

A single drop of bright red blood hit the altar.

Then more as the cut continued to bleed. Harry took the knife and made another swipe to make the blood flow faster. As the red liquid pooled on the altar, he could feel the pull start. Something was draining his magic from his body. He was barely aware of his own actions as he fell to the ground. It was unlike anything else he had experienced.

The pull hurt, but not outrageously. It wasn't the pain that made him thrash and moan. Instead, it was the feeling of his soul being pulled out. His magic must be so deeply a part of himself that it felt like the core elements of himself were being pulled out with it.

Suddenly, the pull stopped.

He looked with tired eyes at the blue eyes staring over him. Bill's worried face glanced over him.

"What happened?" Harry asked.

Bill helped him to sit up. Harry looked up and saw Andrew also standing, looking completely healed.

"It was a close thing. It had almost pulled out your soul by the time Andrew had it in the thermos and I could cut the connection," Bill said.

"Geez, did you have to cut it so close?" Harry asked.

"Is not like Ah was tryin' to draw the thing out. Mah windcharm barely managed to funnel it in," Andrew muttered, his frustration showing.

"What do you think that thing is anyway?" Harry asked.

Bill and Andrew shrugged, but then Bill said, "You know, based on how it tried to pull out your soul and the fog, it kind of reminds me of a certain creature we have back in England."

Harry paled, "But dementors can't cause sickness can they?"

Bill shook his head, "No, but I wonder if they are related?"

Harry shuddered, "Now I really want to destroy that thing. What are you going to do with it anyway?"

"We will be droppin' it off with a friend of ours who studies magical creatures," Andrew said.

"When?"

"Now. He's also the doctor that I wanted to look over you, plus, we all need checked out now," Bill said.

Bill offered a hand to Harry, who took it. Harry glanced down at his hand and was surprised to see the cut healed. A thin red line marked where it had been.

"Sorry there's any scar, mate. Ah only know basic healing spells, and it was a bit deep," Andrew explained.

Harry shrugged, "It's better than I expected; I figured the cut would still be there."

Out in the camp, men were finally coming to and starting to stagger to their feet. Mr. Kyller came over to them; his face redder than even Uncle Vernon's. Harry stood tall, but he wished he could hide behind Bill.

"Weasley!" Kyller roared.

"Sir?" Bill asked nonchalantly.

"Everyone is this camp almost died! What juST HAPPENED?" Mr. Kyller's voice roared by the end of his question.

"There was a slight incident, but it is contained now. Andrew and I are gonna pop over to Doc Clyde's set up. We need to pass him the thing causing the sickness. He can check that it is fully contained," Bill said brusquely.

Mr. Kyller looked even angier, "You expect to just waltz off the job now. All you curse breakers, supposed to make things better but almost killing us regulars. Be gone with you and don't be back until you can be sure none of us are going to die."

"Yes, sir," Bill said.

He grabbed hold of Harry's shoulder. WIth a quick twist, Harry was being stuffed through a straw too small for his body.

Harry stumbled and nearly fell if not for Bill's hand on his shoulder.

"Warn me next time!" he complained.

"Sorry, wanted us to leave before Mr. Kyller changed his mind," Bill gave him an apologetic smile.

Harry looked around the new camp. More tents filled the desert area, but there were also cages and fenced in areas. Animal sounds came from every direction. The hair on Harry's arms stood up straight from the feeling of being watched. Of course, the hundreds of animal eyes in the immediate areas explained the sensation.

Harry raised his wand warily, "Where are we?"

"In the American Zoological Rehabilitation Area or AZRA for short," a voice popped up to his left.

Harry swirled around to see a man of average height with straight black hair. Where Harry was lean, this man was fairly broad with wide shoulders. In his arms was some sort of rabbit with horns.

"Who are you?" Harry asked.

"Doc Clyde," the man extended a hand. Harry shook it warily but Bill and Andrew clasped the man on the shoulders. Harry figured he had to be at least 10 years older than the two. The greying hair put him firmly in his thirties.

"Doc, we have a bit of a situation," Bill said.

"Or situations," Andrew added.

"Really, trouble from you two, never would've suspected that," the doctor muttered. "Come into the tent, I'm sure you British folk want some tea."

Harry stepped into the tent and felt deep appreciate for the magical air conditioning. The space inside was much larger than the outside, typical of wizarding tents, and a comfortable temperature.

Doc Clyde waved his wand as he talked to his unexpected guests, "What's happened on the job now? Near death experience?"

"Nearly always," Bill said, "But this one was slightly different than normal. A fog creature created a sickness. Harry had to bleed on an altar to stop the sickness from spreading. Andrew bottled it up in his thermos."

Andrew handed the thermos to Doc, "Ahh the new Dragon Fire Thermos 800, does it really keep hot drinks at a steady 800 degrees?"

"Pretty near, have to be careful if yah actually want to drink something from it. Though Ah don' plan on using it for drinking ever again, thank yah fog monster," Andrew muttered.

Doc Clyde laughed. He stepped closer to a strange circle burned into the wood in the middle of the floor of the circle. Harry's eyes glanced over the runes going around it.

"Containment circle," Bill told him, "As long as it has magic, it can hold any animal in the circle by holding onto its magic."

Doc Clyde dropped the thermos into the circle and the lid popped off with a wave of his wand. The fog crept slowly out of the thermos. Harry shivered watching it move.

"So what did it do?" Doc asked.

"Everyone it touches became sick except for Harry. It wasn't instant, took an hour before we were ready to pass out. Fever, sweats, boils. Then, it started to suck out Harry's magic and soul when he bled on the altar. It seemed to appease him because the fog started to drift back into the sacrifice chamber. To be honest, it reminds me a bit of the dementors back home," Bill said.

Doc Clyde hummed as he waved his wand in increasingly complex patterns. Harry watched in fascination as diagnostic reports started printing themselves from the tip of his wand onto parchment that hovered from a nearby table.

"Good idea seeing that connection. No one currently knows where dementors come from. They have been guarding Azkaban for as long as anyone can remember, but there are no wild reports of them. Wizards have long debated whether they were man made or from the wild," Doc said as though he was a professor. Harry felt certain he must teach somewhere.

"What do you think?" Andrew asked.

"While probably not the original ancestors, I'd say we have a close relative to the dementors. This is a magical creature for sure, not a spell or curse. The closest I can think is a lethifold, but I'd say that's a highly distant cousin, if related at all. The sickness is interesting, perhaps that was only found in the American version. The good news is the lack of evidence on the species suggests they probably started to die out long ago. Where did you find this one?" he continued.

"Native American ritual chamber. Drawings on the wall suggest they had been sacrificing someone to it each generation for hundreds of years," Bill said.

Doc Clyde nodded, "That's probably how this one managed to survive. I wonder if something changed in the habitat to kill them off or a new predator came and started to eat them? Or perhaps something happened with their reproductive cycle?"

Andrew's nose wrinkled and his face scrunched up, "Real thanks for bringin' up questions about tha' beasts reproductive habits. Anyway, before ya get too deep into testings and experiments, we have another situation."

Bill interjected, "First, we'd like if you could look over all of us and make sure there was no residual damage from the animal's magical illness."

Doc waved his hand, "I've already ran diagnostics on all of you as well. The full reports over there, but there's no trace of this guy's magic anywhere on you."

"Great," Bill said, "Just one other thing then."

Doc Clyde looked over in interest, "Really? Another creature?"

Bill let out a bark of laughter, "Only if you consider teenagers to be wild animals."

Doc Clyde glanced at Harry when he huffed indignantly, "Something wrong with your young companion?"

Bill and Andrew nodded.

"This is Harry Potter. He told us that his scar has been hurting and he's having some weird dreams about Voldemort," Bill said.

Doc Clyde's eyes lit up, "This is a real treat."

Harry felt slightly nervous. He leaned towards Bill, "He does know I'm not a wild animal, right?"

Bill laughed, "Oh he knows all right. He's more excited about all the magic he gets to study."

Harry didn't really feel reassured.

 **Author's note:**

 **Slightly shorter than other chapters, but I wanted to get something out after that long wait with the cliffhanger. Sorry about that, just ridiculously busy during my junior year of college.**

 **As always, let me know what you think in a review below. Any specific places you want them to visit or animals to encounter? Any constructive criticism or grammar issues?**


	8. Chapter 8

"Better put him in a containment ward as well," Doc Clyde muttered to himself as he started to shoo Harry to another ring in the ground.

"Hey! I'm not actually a wild animal!" Harry complained as he found himself being corralled.

Bill laughed at him, "We know that, really. But who knows what kind of magic could happen when we start looking at a curse scar. Better safe than sorry."

Harry scowled at the two laughing curse breakers as he was swiftly directed to the middle of a similar circle, and Doc Clyde started waving his wand to erect another set of wards, "You mean safer for you lot."

Andrew nodded, "Course."

Harry's chest felt tight as Doc Clyde turned his wand waving onto the teenager instead of just the wards. He could feel the tingle as the magic reached out to the scar. The smile slid off Doc's face as a perplexed expression took its place. His eyebrows rose high on his forehead.

"Manitou," he whispered under his breath.

"Manatee?" Andrew repeated at a normal volume.

Doc cleared his throat and shook his head, "No, the native American word manitou for "The Spirit Exists" or "The Great Spirit."

Bill's eyebrows raised too, "What's that got to do with things Doc?"

Doc Clyde ran a hand through his hair, highlighting the slight graying at the sides of his temple, "Native Americans were pan theistic, meaning they thought everything had a bit of the Great Spirit inside of it. When I say everything, I mean everything; rocks, plants, bowls, dogs. Everything. It all stems back from magical Native Americans who would leave pieces of their souls in objects to create connectedness. Today, we call those bits of pieces left in other things as Manitou. Though, I haven't dealt with a piece of soul in a living being since grad school where we found a snake with a bit of soul in it. Common practice back in the day because it created a deeper bond with a familiar. Imagine a pet who knows your thoughts and can communicate with you. I've never dealt with a piece of someone else's soul inside of another person."

"What are you saying?" Harry asked, shuffling his feet in the circle.

Doc didn't immediately answer, giving them a chance to think through his words.

"Do you mean Harry has a piece of Voldemort's soul inside his scar?" Bill asked, the horror spreading across his face.

Harry felt that same horror spread on his own face as he considered Doc's words again. His stomach started to roll, and he felt like he would be sick. Hands clenching and unclenching into fists at his side, he tried to remain calm until he heard what Doc Clyde said.

Doc held his hands in a so-so way, "As far as I can tell, yes, but I'll obviously have to do a lot more testing. Probably call in a colleague. I've never seen one in a human before. Plus, this is different from the Native American mannitou. It has been twisted to dark magic. There are taunts all over, tendrils of darkness. I'm trying to remember the British term. Europeans took the ritual a long time ago but didn't understand it. They felt it could be used for immortality, but that wasn't the original use. They turned it into dark magic."

"Tendrils of darkness. Just bloody brilliant, I have tendrils of Voldemort's darkness inside me," Harry felt light headed. Vaguely he wondered if someone would catch him if he fainted, but he had a feeling the men would sooner laugh at him and tell him not to be such a woman.

Across from him, Andrew screwed up his face, "Can we use ah differen' word from tendril? Makes ih sound dirty."

Bill smacked him on the shoulder as all four men shared a disgusted face.

"But it can be removed, right?" Harry demanded.

"Of course! The snake was perfectly fine after we removed the soul from it. Like I said, I was to confer with a couple others to make sure we remove it safely because you are human and it is dark magic instead of the usual setup, but that's what we do when we find a bit in other objects, just remove them," Doc said.

Doc Clyde waved his wand and Harry felt the wards around him go down. Harry stepped out of the circle with a questioning look toward the doctor.

"No sense keeping you locked up. I'll make some calls and see what I can find out."

"Hey Doc, is your brother here?" Bill asked.

"Brother? More like bother you mean," Doc muttered but waved his hands toward the outside of the canvas tent, "He was in the other tent last I saw."

"Thanks!" Bill said as he led the other two towards the tent.

"Brother?" Harry asked.

Andrew smirked at him, "You'll see."

The tent seemed completely normal from the outside, tan canvas stretched in a square shape over a set of metal poles, but Harry approached it with apprehension. As he got closer, he noticed that the tightly stretched canvas seemed to be vibrated like a giant speaker; though, no noise could be heard.

Bill and Andrew stepped through the open flap without a comment. Harry sighed as he stared at the opening, wondering what he'd be facing next. His hand reached to lift the flap out of the way, and he ducked his head to step in.

Loud banging sounds assaulted his senses first.

And screaming.

He dropped to a crouch, but quickly realized it was some form of...music?

The three men standing in the tent seemed to be laughing at him. The unknown man, apparently Doc's brother, was standing at a table covered with large white pieces of papers covered in sketches. Charcoal pencils, erasers, nubs of wound up paper, and other artists tools were scattered around the tables.

"HEY DUDE!" the brother had to yell to be heard over the screaming, offering his hand to Harry.

"HI!" Harry yelled back, taking the proffered hand. As he did, the sleeve pulled up slightly, and he spotted thick black markings covering the unknown man's arm.

The man waved his hand and the heavy metal music softened slightly until they at least didn't have to yell to each other to be heard.

"What can I do for you fellows? Ready for a tattoo finally?" he directed the second question towards Bill.

"Randy, my mum is mad enough about the piercing and long hair. Unless I get disowned, the tattoo is probably not a wise choice," Bill replied.

Randy smirked, "I can put it in a private place. Unless your mum still wipes your butt, she'd never know."

Bill rolled his eyes.

Harry thought about how the Dursleys would react if he came home with an obvious tattoo. The thought of how disgusted they would be was rather pleasant.

"Can I get a tattoo?" he asked.

The three older men turned to him, Randy looked thoughtful.

"How old are you, kid?" Randy asked.

Harry squared his shoulders at being called kid, "Thirteen, but I'm basically fourteen."

Randy shook his head, "Yeah, you can get one when you turn sixteen if you have guardian permission. If not, it's eighteen like everyone else."

The men turned back to each other and started a conversation. Whereas Doc Clyde seemed like he was at least in his late thirties, his brother seemed to be about the same age as Bill and Andrew. Randy was the kind of person that Aunt Petunia would cross the street to avoid, all the while mumbling about disgraceful youth.

In a way, Randy reminded Harry of a younger, muggle-clothes-wearing version of Professor Snape. He was dressed all in baggy black clothing with a pair of oversized black tennis shoes on his feet. His hair hung down to his shoulders in a black sheet, and Harry wasn't completely sure if it was naturally black or if he dyed it. As he talked, he'd pushed both of his sleeves up to his elbows, revealing equal black sleeve tattoos that continued snaking up his arms past his shirt sleeves.

Unlike Professor Snape though, Randy had a healthy tan (Harry reckoned it might be impossible to avoid tanning in the desert) and the exposed foremans were chorded with lean muscle. Plus, his black hair did not appear greasy at all.

Harry wandered over to examine the different designs hanging on the walls of the tent. Now that he knew they were tattoo designs, he was fascinated by them. Tattoos were classified under the subject of things that the Dursleys disdained and never talked about. He hadn't seen too many wizards with visible tattoos either, but his main experiences in the Wizarding World were around the school and the shopping area for school.

Even with little experience with muggle tattoos, he could tell that these were definitely something special. The intricacy and details blew Harry away. Many were moving as though some magic was animating them.

A design of a snake that seemed like it was supposed to wrap around an arm or leg was lazily slithering up and down in a bracelet movement.

A brief question of whether or not Sirius had a tattoo flitted through his mind, before his attention was drawn to the conversation.

"I think that fang will look too big in his ear," Bill was saying.

Andrew nodded, "Don't want the piercin' to ge' all stretched out from tha' weight."

"Who's getting a piercing?" Harry questioned as he walked back over, "That fang looks nice."

He pointed at a silvery white fang on the smaller size lying in a case of earings.

"Good, use that one," Bill told Randy who nodded and grabbed the fang before turning to Harry.

"My dude, you are the one getting the piercing."

Harry backed away with his hands up, "Wow, don't I get a say in this?"

"Listen, the piercing is magical. It disrupts attempts at reading your mind, putting a small shield around your brain. That's why the piercing has to be in one of your earlobes. It might help to at least disrupt the connection between you and you-know-who. Might help with the dreams too," Bill said quickly as Harry was shuffled over to a chair in the middle of the room.

The Dursleys had only taken Harry to the dentist once, just to meet the requirement to start primary. But something about the grey chair with a reclining feature set in the middle of a bunch of bright lights brought back that memory of the dentist.

Harry tried to struggle anew, sick of being herded from one area to another, but he was no match for the two grown men. Randy was pulling on latex gloves behind them with a sharp snapping sound.

He sighed as he was pushed down into the chair, "Is it going to hurt a lot?"

"Just a pinch," Randy said.

The American man grabbed a sealed package off a table. Harry caught a glint of silver as he opened it to reveal some sort of needle.

Harry's whole body clenched as Randy grabbed hold of his earlobe.

"Ouch!" he said, but felt embarrassed almost immediately realizing it truly had felt like a sharp pinch.

No one laughed, but Bill and Andrew had broad grins on their faces. The tugging on his ear felt weird, and he could actually feel the back of the fang going through his ear, stretching the new hole. His shoulders shivered involuntarily at the strange feeling.

Randy handed him a mirror, and Harry checked out the new hole in his ear.

He turned his head slightly from side to side, admiring how the silver looked against his black hair that was just starting to get longer. If he had still been at the Dursleys', Aunt Petunia would be telling him any day that it was time for a haircut.

"Like it?" Randy asked.

"Yeah mate, I guess it looks pretty good," Harry said finally, handing the mirror back.

"Good, now we don't have to be afraid to tell you about the trade. Part of the contract with the goblins. If you aren't a master Occlumancer, you have to get some form of mental shielding device," Bill explained to him.

Shouting outside the tent drew their attention, and the four ran to the tent flap to see what was going on.

"RANDY!" Doc Clyde was yelling as he pulled on ropes connected to a huge yellow bird. Harry was certain that the wingspan of the bird was wider than Bill's height, and Bill was not a short guy. Sparkles of electricity lept and jumped down the length of the rope, seemingly being generated by the bird.

Randy rushed forward and grabbed another rope that had been hanging loose. Between the two men, they managed to pull the massive bird back down into a cage that was easily 8ft each way.

Inside of the cage, the bird's thunder powers seemed dulled, to where only small bits of lightning appeared.

"You got a thunderbird, doc," appreciation was clear in Andrew's voice as the three visitors came closer to the cage.

"It's been a pain in the you-know-what the entire time I've had it. The powers are almost too strong for my current cage set up. Trying to contain lightening is no easy feat mind you," Doc Clyde pulled a rag from his back pocket and wiped his sweating forehead as he looked at the massive bird in the cage.

Harry felt pinned in the spot, like prey, as the large golden eyes swung around to him.

The bird stared at him with an intelligence that he felt outmatched even Hedwig's. The bird crooned once as it shuffled closer to Harry, reaching the limits of its cage. The golden eyes were drawn up towards Harry's forehead where his famous lightning bolt scar was.

He finally looked away to see the others staring at him.

"What?" he asked defensively, crossing his arms.

"Nothing," Bill muttered, and the attention was drawn elsewhere.

They stayed for the afternoon, helping with the animals as Doc Clyde directed. Harry guessed it was around 3pm when a small sandy colored owl flew in and landed on Doc's shoulders, a letter in hand.

Doc opened the letter, scratching the preening bird's chest absently as he read.

"Ahh good! My colleague will be able to see Harry tomorrow, if that works?" Doc asked Bill who immediately nodded.

"This is one of those situations where we'll make it work," Bill agreed.

"Good, then you are heading to the Native American Reservation tomorrow morning," Doc Clyde told them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Time Skip~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning dawned early and hot.

"Why is it already hot?" Harry complained as he adjusted the straps on his pack, already feeling sweat starting to touch his back in way too intimate of a manner.

"It's the desert; it's always hot," Bill answered his apprentice.

"We didn't even have breakfast," Harry complained back.

He huffed slightly as an apple and granola were simultaneously thrown at him. Seeker reflexes allowed him to catch both. Glancing at the two items, he shrugged before opening the bar and chowing down.

Bill was at least feeding him better than the Dursleys.

As they waited, Harry fiddled with the fang in his ear.

An old man in a potentially older truck pulled up to the curb. Bill had apparated them to the closest location he had been, and Doc Clyde had said he would send someone to pick them up.

The man spat out the window as he looked them over, "You a Weasley and a Potter?"

"Yes sir," Bill replied.

"Well, get in then," the man said. Bill held open the door, and Harry shot him a glare, but dutifully slid into the middle spot. The smell of cheap cigars and some sort of spicy cologne wafted over to Harry.

The old man started to hand crank his window shut, "Better shut yours too, it's gonna get bumpy."

Harry didn't understand at first why bumpy meant to close the windows, but he quickly understood as the clouds of fine dust rose from the truck's bouncing tires. He had never appreciated air conditioning properly until this trip.

The ride was quiet. Bill tried to start a conversation a few times, but the man spoke only in grunts and monosyllabic words.

At first, Harry tried to entertain himself by looking at the passing desert, but the lack of change in scenery did not make for an interesting trip.

About a half hour later, slight changes marked the start of the reservation. Harry saw single wide trailers and random buildings that suggested habitation out in the middle of the desert. Once, they passed a gas station with two pumps. Shells of old vehicles lay seemingly abandoned in the desert.

In the distance, large rock formations grew out of the horizon.

The man pulled up to a nondescript trailer set more by itself and stopped the truck. Around the trailer were a variety of piles of rocks and a half finished rock structure that looked like it might become a house.

"Is this our destination?" Bill asked.

A grunt of apparent affirmation was given, so Harry and Bill shared a look before jumping out. The man didn't say anything as he pulled away.

"So what now?" Harry asked.

At that point, the trailer door opened with a bang, and a new old man, this time half bent over with a cane in hand, hobbled out and over to the pair.

"Ahh, my guests!" he called, "Come, we must have meditation tea."

He waved them towards him, so they walked to the trailer.

Instead of a set of steps, there was a half rotten piece of plywood serving as a short and steep ramp. Inside the doorway opened into a living room with an open kitchen. A narrow hallway seemed as though it might lead to some bedrooms. In the living room a large lump took up an old orange couch that sagged in the middle. Muddy, orange carpet with faded swirling patterns covered the floor until it transitioned to a green linoleum in the kitchen area.

The man went over to the lump and smacked it, hard, with his cane, "We have guests now! Go!'

Harry watched as the lump formed into a man who stood up from the couch and paused the movie on the TV. He headed down the hallway. Several barefoot and shirtless children ran through the living room, but the old man shooed them backoutside.

"My grandchildren," he said with a grin as he motioned them onto the couch. As Harry and Bill tried to sit, the lack of cushion and springs resulted in them accidentally sliding into each other. They scowled at each other, and Bill shoved him away lightly, but it didn't work. Everything on the couch just kind of sunk into the middle with the cushions.

As the man came back in carrying a large tray with steaming cups on it, they both turned and smiled at him, shoving each other's ribs where he couldn't see.

"Ahh, meditation tea. It will open your mind. I picked the leaves myself from the desert," he said as he handed it to them with a smile. "Drink!"

Harry took a sip and nearly spit out the bitter drink. When the man turned his eyes on him though, he forced a smile onto his face hoping it wasn't just a grimace. It must have worked well enough because the man gave him a beaming smile in return.

Bill finally interjected, "You are the man Doctor Clyde told us to go to, right?"

"Of course, of course. Doctor Clyde will be here soon. First, finish your tea and you can walk the labyrinth. Find your destiny," the still unnamed man said.

As they sipped on the tea, the man started to tell them about the Native American traditions, their history and their magic. Harry became so engaged that he didn't even notice the bitterness of the drink, absentmindedly sipping as the man talked.

It was as though the man's voice was a smoke that seeped in through Harry's ears, painting a picture in his brain of a different time. A time when the land was still pure and wild and filled with so many spirits. A time when magic was so much a part of Native American life that they didn't differentiate between Muggles and magical because maybe they did not have a single strong castor, but almost everyone could perform simple magic. A time when magic was as much a way of communicating with nature and life as it was to make life easier.

After that, the idea of Manitou, or the Great Spirit made more sense. It was so great that it was all encompassing. Of course the Native Americans tried to add to it.

"Now, time for the labyrinth. Need to find your path," the man said, standing up and starting to hobble back outside.

Bill and Harry sat their empty cups back down and silently followed the man. Harry was still lost in his thoughts, wondering how the Europeans could have corrupted the magic so much.

He was jerked out of his thoughts when the man suddenly stopped, leading to Bill stopping, and Harry nearly running into both.

"Labyrinth," the man said, spreading his arms wide.

Harry looked out at the desert, not sure what majestic creation to expect.

Then he had to look again because he didn't see anything.

It was the third pass when he finally looked down.

To see stones arranged side by side to create a large circular shape.

Just a large circle drawn on the ground with rocks. He couldn't help the slight disappointment that crept through him. After the story telling, he had been expecting more. Still, he dutifully stepped into the opening where the man pointed.

"Remember, the Labyrinth will help you find your destiny. The tea will open your mind," the man reminded him.

"Sure," he said briefly, then felt bad from the sharp look Bill sent him. Some of his disbelief must have slipped into his voice.

So he straightened up and started to walk the trail ahead.

It was a very curving path, following along the inside of the circle and backtracking several times. He kept his gaze focused down on the ground, just looking at the rocks ahead of him.

He suppressed a sigh. The sun was almost directly overhead and beating down on his back. He had started to feel his face, neck, and ears burning over the last day, so he was certain he'd have a deep sunburn after this. This labyrinth seemed pointless.

Since he had to walk it either way, he let his mind start to wander as he walked the curving paths.

The thunderbird from Doc Clyde's came back to mind.

Bright yellow feathers tipped with gold and black, electric running across the surface of the bird.

When he had looked into those eyes, it was as though he saw lightning striking the desert and spreading across the sky. A bolt of something nearly unstoppable, immobilizing muscles, turning glass from sand.

Suddenly, he had reached the end of the maze.

He looked up, feeling slightly dazed and off, thinking about the thunderbird, as Bill and the man came over to him.

"Did you find your destiny?" the man asked.

Harry shook his head, "Sorry, I don't think it worked for me."

The man's face fell. Harry looked to Bill, but the older man just sent him a wink, telling him not to be upset.

"Sir, Doctor Clyde sent us here about Harry's scar?" Bill prompted, trying to finally turn the conversation to the matter at hand.

A voice cut through even as the man opened his mouth, "Yes, and I am here now along with another colleague. We can look at it."

They turned to see Doc Clyde walking over with a thin, dark skinned woman.

"Let's go into the trailer and we can examine you, Mr. Potter," the unknown woman said.

The group moved towards the trailer, Harry's thoughts swirling as he wondered what they would find. Was there truly a piece of Voldemort's soul trapped inside his scar? And if there was, did Voldemort know about it?


	9. Chapter 9

Summers were slow and leisurely for Albus Dumbledore. Most of his manipulations took place during the school year and active Wizengamot sessions, so he used the summers to plot and eat candy. Rearrange his sock drawer. Visit Grindelwald and wonder how two dark wizards had flourished under his watchful eye. As close to relaxing as the old man got.

On this particular day, about three weeks into summer vacation, Albus Dumbledore could already tell he wasn't going to be able to enjoy his normal summer routine.

First, it was Harry Potter's disappearance.

That by itself was a considerable concern to the old man, but the whirlwind it stirred up was the true headache.

Never ending owls from countless lackeys. The Weasley Matriarch sending angry letters that border lined as Howlers as she accused him of losing her favorite black haired child.

Honestly, he hadn't lost him.

Harry was just misplaced, somewhere.

At first, he'd just figured the boy had allowed himself some normal teenager angst and ran away from home. A quick fix to be sure.

Until Harry didn't turn up in Surrey or Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade or anywhere else the boy would know.

Somehow, despite the countless tracking charms and devices placed on the boy, despite the countless wards, he was just gone.

Vanished.

Like magic.

And that was how Albus Dumbledore knew that a wizard must be helping the boy.

Which was both concerning and aggravating because it made retrieving the boy so much more difficult.

Truthfully, he hadn't been very concerned at first. Originally, he just figured the boy had ran away. Then he realized someone must be helping Harry, but they must have moved him out of the country for the tracking charms to have failed.

That had seemed like a simple solution. Only way out of magical Britain was a port key, and they were all registered. But...there was no portkey registered as having taken a Harry Potter from the country's borders.

Which meant that Dumbledore was dealing with an incredibly powerful and dark wizard, someone capable of producing illegal portkeys without the ministry noticing.

At least, that was what Dumbledore had himself deduced from the evidence.

Like most older pure blooded wizards, he didn't even consider muggle transportation which meant he had run into a dead end on the whole finding Harry Potter front which lead to more headaches from annoying people wondering why he hadn't already found the boy. Snape, McGonagall, Mrs Weasley and plenty of others, constantly asking after the boy.

On this particular day, he was enjoying his usual breakfast: three eggs, a piece of toast, and sausage (all doused in Canadian Maple Syrup, new fondness of his) when the owl arrived bearing the Gringotts crest. He assumed it was just his monthly statement.

Until he opened it to a notice of an account audit.

Which meant he was expected to give an explanation for his spending of all accounts for the last 15 years. Including any assets he may have used from the Potter account.

Spewing maple syrup covered eggs out of his mouth, he effectively turned everything on his desk sticky.

"Well, this is an opportunity to use some new slang," he told Fawkes as he turned to the Phoenix.

When McGonagall entered the office a short while later with the completed teacher's reports from the end of the school year, she came across a desk covered in half eaten food. As she wrinkled her nose, she caught sight of pink robes covered in purple rhinoceros sticking out from several large chests. Moving closer, she realized it was Dumbledore's robe clad bottom from where he was mostly engulfed in a large chest, muttering to himself and pulling out stacks of papers.

She gave a delicate cough, and Dumbledore jerked, hitting his head off the top of the chest and causing it to come down on his head, double hit.

"Minerva! You startled me!" He said, with normal grandfather twinkle though there was a slight edge that she couldn't help but to catch in his face.

"Yes, well, I have the end of the year reports. I've already skimmed through them and everything seems to be in order. A majority of professors did express some concerns in both our security and in our preparedness for emergencies with Sirius Black breaki—"

He cut her off, "Yes, yes, please place them on my desk and I will review them at a later time. For now, I simply have to find my receipts from Madam Malkins from three summers ago."

McGonagall curled up her lip at the eggs and sticky substance still covering the desk, but obliged, concerned at how used she was to the headmaster's behavior.

—change in perspective—

Harry found himself led into the trailer and then into a room off the hallway, no explanation needed on the purpose of this one. Bright lights, white walls, stainless workspaces. The smell of antiseptic and bleach.

"This is my operating room," the man announced as he guided the group inside.

The short Asian woman, introduced as Doctor Cynthia Wu, immediately sat down her bag and started pulling out her tools. Harry didn't have much experience with muggle doctors (like the Dursley's would've spent the money on him), but even he could tell these weren't the same tools a muggle would use.

While there were shiny scalpels, there was also an object that reminded Harry sharply of an anteater with a compact holding tank narrowing into a long thin snout like tube, especially when the long snout moved by itself. There were also various jars containing potions and potions ingredients. One tool seemed to be a large crystal with a razor sharp edge.

"Now this won't hurt a bit. I'll just give you something to put you to sleep, and when you wake up, bam, the spirit will be gone!" Doc Henry said, pushing him behind a screen and tossing a gown towards him, "put this on!"

Coerced begins the screen, Harry pushed Doc Henry away before the excited man could start undressing him too. He waited until all watchful eyes had disappeared from behind the screen before dutifully putting on the gown.

And immediately protesting, "It hasn't got a back! My whole arse is sticking out!"

"Language," Bill called, sounding scarily like his mother.

Harry stuck his head out from around the curtain, glaring balefully at Bill, "My language doesn't change the fact that my entire behind is out. I'm staying back here."

"It's nothing we haven't seen before, Mr Potter,"

Doctor Wu said as she waved her wand. Harry suddenly felt himself helpless to resist as his legs started marching around the curtain to the operating table.

"Now, we're going to try to leave the magic behind while only removing the infectious soul-" Doc Henry started but Harry interrupted.

"Leave the magic?"

"Yes, do you have any talents that would not normally be in the Potter line?"

"Uhm, yeah, I'm a parseltongue," Harry muttered, looking down.

"Exactly! You've been stuck being his host for all these years. Might as well get to keep the extra abilities. Now, where is that Baku?" Doc said as he started digging through a cupboard.

Harry thought he was looking for a tool until he pulled out a small squirming animal. He had no idea exactly what the animal was, noticing the elephant like trunk, ox's tail and what looked like orange and black tiger's paws.

Pulling away did nothing as Doctor Wu grabbed his shoulder and held him in place as Doc put the animal up to his head. For being five foot nothing, the petite doctor had some muscles.

Meanwhile, the trunk of the animal reached up and tried to suction to Harry's forehead, but his hair got in the way.

"What is that thing?" Harry demanded, trying to shove the trunk away.

"A Japanese Baku. Stop fighting! It'll put you to sleep and keep you from dreaming. I think we'll need to cut his hair back some," Doc was suddenly talking to the others. With a swish of a wand and a brief fluttering feeling, Harry felt the hair on his head get lighter.

Then, he thought nothing else as the Bali's trunk auctioned itself to his forehead and he fell into a deep sleep.

In the blackness, it was as though dreams tried to start several times.

The start of colors and an awareness of places before it was all pulled away, as though a shop vac was sweeping through his brain, suctioning the colors away down a narrow straw.

Then back into the darkness until the next dream tried to start.

Again, the colors and feelings were pushed together into a small ball before it was as though the ball was sucked up and away.

This continued with no semblance of time as Harry lay there, not even aware of the fact he was sleeping.

When he came to, the first thing he noticed was the soreness, as though he had been laying still for a long time. His muscles aches slightly all over.

"Sleeping beauty awakens! Seriously dude, you were out for like three days. I was starting to think my bro had accidentally melted your brains," a voice was saying over him.

Harry opened his eyes to Doc Henry's all black clad brother, Randy.

"Three days?" He tried to mutter, voice cracking as he realized his throat was as dry as the desert he had been visiting.

Randy seemed to understand him though, "Yeah dude, after the first day, they brought you back to our place. I think they were starting to get a little worried, because they had expected you to wake up after two days. Course, they were just going off of what the animals normally do after removing a Manitou."

"In this case, the proper term would be Horcrux," Doctor Wu said as she came around the bed and took Harry's pulse, "How do you feel Mr Potter?"

Randy handed him a glass of water that he gulped down, "Uhm a bit sore, but more from lying still so long I think."

"Any pain in your forehead?" She asked, checking what felt like a bandage.

He shook his head as his hand reached up to feel it. There seemed to be some sort of gauze and tape caglamoration stuck to his forehead.

"Good, we put a strong topical antiseptic over the wound," she said as she backed away from the bed.

Harry looked around, "So does that mean it worked?"

"Apparently so. We definitely extracted the entire soul piece. Nasty bit of blackness. Still, I suppose only time will see if you have retained all of your mental capacities," she said it in a monotone, but Harry laughed nervously anyway, hoping she was joking.

"Now don't go scaring my apprentice like that! He's already missed three days of work. Time to get back into it," Bill's loud voice boomed over the tent.

After a thorough check up, Bill was allowed to bring him back to the hotel room. Harry stumbled into the bathroom intent on taking a shower.

Then he paused as he looked at himself in the mirror. While he had been sleeping, his red sunburnt skin had turned into the start of a tan. Stranger though was the shortness of his hair. It wasn't a crew cut, but it was shorter than it had ever been before, unfamiliar after the messy mop style cut he had had his entire life. Even when Aunt Petunia has tried to cut it, it had grown right back. Right now, it reminded him a bit of short version of Snape's hair with how much accumulated grease was in it.

He looked ruefully down at the wand in his pocket; now he was too old for accidental magic. He guessed he'd just have to grow out his hair the old fashion way...time.

After the shower, he looked at his hair again, and spiked it up a bit. His mouth smirked a bit. Freshly washed, it actually wasn't too bad. It kind of made the messiness look purposeful.

"Huh," he said.

Bill was fairly quiet that evening, just letting him eat a big meal and head back to bed, shaking his head that Harry could fall asleep so quickly after sleeping for three days straight.

The next day, though, Bill woke the teenager before the sun was even starting to rise.

"Come' on, you gotta earn your keep around here," Bill said, practically shoving the boy out of bed.

"I'm up, I'm up," Harry said, rolling out of bed and getting ready.

"Better now when it's cooler," Bill reminded him. On the way out of the hotel, they grabbed two bagels from the free breakfast. In an alley between the two nearest buildings, Bill apparated the two of them out to the dig site.

"Wow, you guys have been busy," Harry muttered around his bagel, staring wide eyed at the fully exposed cave entrance, mountain of scaffolding going up to it, and piles of artifacts laying around.

"Someone has to work around here, we can't all go through brain surgery," Bill teased him as he led the way through the site, "Now it's our job to make sure there's no curses on anything. So, once we've taken down the main seal, we take out each item. Once it's out, Mr Kyller's team takes care of the rest."

"OK, what's my job then?" Harry asked with excitement.

"Gopher," Bill told him.

"Gopher?"

"Yep, you get to retrieve tools for me. Carry artifacts out for me. Go up and down the scaffolding getting food and water for me," Bill said as his face split into a wide smirk.

"Who-hoo," Harry said sarcastically.

Bill was true to his word. He kept Harry running all around the site moving and retrieving items. Harry spent a considerable amount of time under the desert sun, feeling his skin darkening, but at least the base tan was keeping it from burning again.

Harry skirted around a group of men who seemed to just be standing around the site smoking and talking. Bill stood with a hand shading his eyes watching as the men looked at his young apprentice dragging a large ritual chair through the site to the artifacts tent.

As Harry came back through camp, Bill stopped him with a hand on his shoulder, "Careful, some kids have been going missing in the area. Not everyone in the site is your friend."

Harry brushed off his hand, "I'm not some kid, Bill. I can defend myself."

"Sure you aren't, kid," he gave Harry's shoulder a playful shove. "Just be careful, you hear?"

"Yeah, yeah, I will!"

Despite the busywork, Harry was fascinated by the process of cursebreaking. Bill would focus on a single item in a pile and use a levitation charm to move it to the center of the large cave chamber. Then he began the painstaking process of trying to figure out the Magic's on the item.

"It would be a lot simpler if we could just see the magic, but there's only been a few Masters who could do something like that. Instead, it's a bit of a guessing game. I keep using revealing spells and hitting it with different charms to see how it reacts until I have a good idea what defenses are on it. Once I have it narrowed down, I start breaking the defenses down," Bill explained as he sent red light after blue light after light purple charm at the ritual bowl in front of him.

"What's the purple charm check for?" Harry asked.

"It's pretty specific. It only checks if the item has a particularly nasty charm on it that liquifies the small intestine. Still, an apprentice under my master with me didn't do it, and I had to watch him die, so I always do it," Bill said.

Harry shuddered slightly as Bill pulled out a knife and started cutting the magic strands.

"Once I've figured out the potential magic on the items, I have the strays of the magic memorized. It's just a matter of cutting the threads in the right spots and the entire curse will collapse on itself," Bill explainer as his knife swiped out and made a smooth cut in the air around the bowl.

There was a slight puff of smoke, and the entire bowl disappeared for a minute.

When the smoke had cleared, Bill reached out with his bare hand and grabbed the bowl.

"All clear now," he said with a smile before tossing the bowl at Harry.

Long engrained Seeker skills enabled him to catch the wooden bowl against his chest. He flipped the bowl over, considering the designs around the inside.

"Cool!" He finally declared. Bill shot him a grin of agreement before sending him off on errands.

The next few days passed in the same pattern. Andrew had left after making sure that Harry was alright, so Bill and Harry spent their days working through the site.

Harry's skin got darker, and he realized that his hair grew very slowly, but he didn't really mind.

The heat started to become more normal, though he breathed a little easier every evening in the air conditioning of the hotel.

When they weren't at the hotel or the site, Bill took him around the sights in Arizona.

Bill was clearly no stranger to a woman's company, constantly flirting and sweet talking women.

"Yes, ma'am, just visiting from across the pond for work," Bill said, leaning on his elbows across the bar. It was 5 in the afternoon, and Bill had lead Harry to a local eatery.

The pair had found the only available seating to be at the bar below the sports shows. While Harry found himself intrigued by the American soccer playing, Bill had ordered a beer and seemed to be quite interested in busty blonde waitress.

She certainly didn't seem to mind the attention as she leaned on her own elbow against the bar, chest sticking out.

Harry rolled his eyes at the pair.

"And you work in the desert? No wonder you've gotten so many freckles," she said.

He leaned closer to her and whispered something in her ear. Based on her giggle, Harry had a feeling it might've been something about other places Bill had freckles.

Or the man could've made a joke that was actually funny. Whichever was more likely from a hot blooded, mid-twenties man.

"Anyway, I was really hoping to be able to try out some of this place's famous sweet potato fries, but the other waiter said you were already sold out for the day. Any possibility there's still some in the back?" Bill said, crooked smirk across his face.

She giggled again, "Ohh, Lewis just likes to have some to take home at the end of the day. Let me check for you."

A while later, Bill and Harry left the bar, both pleasantly full, and Bill with the waitresses number as well as the sweet potato fries he wanted.

Bill slung his arm around Harry's shoulders, "Charm goes much further than demands."

"Life lessons from Bill?" Harry asked sarcastically.

"Big brother lessons. Nothing wrong with a bit of flirting. The waitresses got to feel noticed, and I got my sweet potato fries. Use your talents, whatever they may be," Bill said with a wide smile on his face.

Harry considered what he said quietly.

Things were going well. Harry couldn't believe how much he was enjoying his summer. Bill was a bit of a taskmaster, but it was more like McGonagall than the Dursley's. They had a packed schedule, and Bill expected him to work hard, but he also explained and gave help as needed.

Doc Clyde wasn't surprised when they stopped by several times throughout the week.

"Healing nicely!" He declared as he rewrapped the bandages on Harry's forehead.

"How long do I have to wear a bandage?" Harry questioned.

"Until it's completely closed. I don't want sand in there and have to deal with an infected brain," Doc said sternly. "Now any side effects? Feeling more forgetful than normal?"

Harry shook his head, "If anything, I feel better."

It felt like he was starting to settle into his new job and routine.

Then Bill decided it was time for Harry to try to break the enchantments on a cursed item.


End file.
